The Destruction of the Books (6 page)

“A book in the hands of goblins might prove a frightful thing,” the captain continued, looking straight at Juhg.

“Yes,” Juhg reluctantly agreed.

“It might behoove us to see whether the book—and the goblin ship, for that matter—exist at all.”

“Yes,” Juhg said.

“I’d rather this not get around to the crew just yet.”

“I understand.” With part of
Windchaser
’s standing orders regarding protecting Greydawn Moors and the Great Library hidden there, Juhg knew that news of a goblin ship possibly in possession of a book would unnerve some of the older crew.

Looking at Raisho, Captain Attikus said, “Do I make myself clear?”

“Aye, Cap’n. Very clear.”

Attikus shifted his fierce gaze to Herby. “That goes for all of you.”

“Aye, Cap’n.” Herby saluted smartly, and the monk stepped out from under the desk to carry out the same action.

Captain Attikus looked at the sailor and the young boy for another long moment, then muttered, “Hmph.” He turned to Juhg. “Seeing as how I want discussion of this situation kept to a minimum, I’ll need you to keep a weather eye peeled for these events, Librarian Juhg.”

Juhg batted his eyes, hoping he hadn’t understood what the captain had so eloquently stated without saying. “Captain, I’m afraid that I don’t know—”

“I want you to look for that ship, Librarian Juhg,” Captain Attikus stated.

“
Me,
Captain?”

“Aye. You know what a goblin ship looks like. You’ve probably had more frequent and closer experience with one than any of the men aboard
Windchaser.
”

Juhg knew that was true. He’d been captured, then shipped to the slave market in a goblin city, then shipped again to the goblin mine owner that purchased him. Juhg knew goblin sailing vessels; knew the stink of them, as well as the harsh life afforded aboard them.

“Begging the captain’s pardon,” Juhg said, “but sending a dweller in search of a goblin ship might not be the best course of action.”

“But I think it is, Librarian Juhg. Of any man aboard this ship, I know that you’ll be the one who works the hardest not to be seen by the goblins.”

Juhg swallowed with effort. Getting caught again by goblins since departing Greydawn Moors became a possibility as soon as
Windchaser
entered the Blood-Soaked Sea. Nightmares sometimes still clamored in his sleep, forcing him to get up from his hammock and walk the deck until he felt safe again.

“I’ll send Raisho with you,” Captain Attikus went on. “Stay along the taverns fronting the harbor and you should be fine. Raisho can watch over you.”

“Aye,” Raisho said.

Juhg surveyed the young sailor and wondered if the captain knew just how much ale Raisho had consumed during the night. Raisho swayed ever so slightly as the ship rocked on the choppy harbor water. Captain Attikus usually wasn’t one to miss a detail like that.

“Easy along, sailor,” the captain told Raisho. “I’ll have the Librarian back in one piece, or things aboard this ship will go hard on you.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” Raisho responded. “Juhg’s me friend. I’ll watch over him sharp-like.”

Captain Attikus nodded. “See that you do, then. See that you do.” He glanced at Juhg. “As for you, stay alive, Librarian Juhg, and let me know what you find out.”

“I will, Captain,” Juhg said, but a thousand arguments spun through his mind as to why he should not be the one to go.

3

A Dangerous Venture

Wrapped in his cloak against the continuing wind, Juhg scanned the harbor. Without moonslight and in the shadow of the tall mountain peaks surrounding the port, the search for the goblin ship remained daunting.

However, the chill air did serve to bring Raisho back to full alert, in spite of the ale he had consumed. He stood on the lee side of Juhg as they sat huddled on one of the low promontories facing the harbor water. The waves smashed constantly against the rocks at their feet, sending spray and mist up over them as the hollow booms and meaty smacks rolled around them. Men’s voices, unhappy men and angry men, sounded all along the four piers that serviced the cargo skiffs. Block and tackles raised the cargo nets filled with crates, barrels, and cloth bags from the skiffs, then swung them over to the waiting shore crews working by lantern light on the piers.

The salt spray stung Juhg’s eyes and caused small tears that froze on his cheeks. He wished he wore a beard as some dwellers did, but he had never cared for them. Grandmagister Lamplighter shared that grooming habit as well. But a beard would have offered a little more warmth.

Before leaving
Windchaser,
Juhg had added another layer to his clothing. He’d also retrieved a pair of woolen gloves that he hadn’t felt he’d needed that evening. He felt a little warmer in the early morning than he had earlier. The drastic change in temperature after the sun set had surprised him.

Raisho had also dressed more warmly and appeared to be entirely comfortable in a long cloak that hung shapeless and drab from his broad shoulders.

They ate from the cloth bag of apples and cheeses Juhg had appropriated from the larder aboard
Windchaser.
Supper in the tavern had been shortly after the sun disappeared over the Sea of Frozen Teeth. Most of the night had passed since then. Juhg felt certain that cock’s crow couldn’t be far away.

Nearly all of the lighted windows in the establishments and homes that sat anchored in the craggy mountainside above the harbor lingered in darkness now. Only laborers and possibly thieves remained at work, and Juhg doubted there was much call or good working conditions for the latter. Few outside of the merchants and ships’ captains in the harbor boasted anything worth stealing, and those had guards posted.

No armed guard patrolled the streets as in some cities Juhg had seen while in the company of Grandmagister Lamplighter, but the men in Kelloch’s Harbor wouldn’t have hesitated to take a man’s life if that action suited their needs. In fact, Juhg kept expecting to see the corpse of a luckless victim wash up onto shore at any time.

Or maybe a dying man clinging to his last breath,
the dweller thought unhappily. In the past, he had seen such things, but he had been gone from them for a long time. Greydawn Moors hadn’t featured such dangers, or even fostered thought of them.

Except for the Yondering Docks,
he amended silently. Wild men came to port there. The dwarven pirates aboard
One-Eyed Peggie
had shanghaied Grandmagister Lamplighter there to fill out their crew and set the Grandmagister upon the adventures that had changed his life all those years ago.

“Sails,” Raisho called softly.

So tired he could barely keep his head up, Juhg stared out into the harbor. Beyond the sheltering circumference of the mountains, the sea raged. White-capped waves swirled high into the air. The spring thaw had been going on for more than a month, but great slabs of ice—some of them as large as trade ships—still meandered down from the north. An unfortunate encounter with an iceberg could sink a ship in heartbeats, possibly take down an entire crew before longboats could be put to sea. Icebergs had claimed ships in that fashion even in the daylight hours. A ship sailing at night took awfully big chances.

But when else would be a good time for a clandestine ship to enter the harbor?
Juhg knew the timing couldn’t be better. Even with the crews still laboring to shift the arriving and departing goods, no one would pay much attention to a newly arrived ship unless they were told to work the cargo.

“How many sails?” Juhg asked, searching through the tangled masts of the ships already at anchor in the harbor.

“Three.” Raisho cautiously made his way up the rocky incline for a better view. “For’ard, aft, an’ amidships.”

Juhg followed his friend. He didn’t want to be far from Raisho’s protection, should things turn nasty in the night, but curiosity also pushed him. His need to know things had earned him Grandmagister Lamplighter’s good graces on many occasions. Most Librarians tended just to accept facts, but Juhg had always tried to understand most of what he read and be able to correlate those ideas and facts to other things he already understood.

Grandmagister Lamplighter had rewarded attention to learning, not just reading and filing. Knowing the contents of the Vault of All Known Knowledge was one thing, the Grandmagister had contended, but being able to use those contents was the truest test of a Librarian. The Grandmagister did not tell all of his charges that. Not all of the Librarians were interested in that aspect of the knowledge they shepherded; most were content simply to organize and cross-reference the tomes they cared for.

“A three-master.” Juhg caught hold of a rocky outcropping and hauled himself up the incline. Stones rattled loose beneath his boots and cascaded down the stony incline.
Dweller feet and footwear didn’t often go together. Dwellers, by nature, tended to go barefooted, and remained a cobbler’s nightmare to fit because their feet tended to be so large and wide. Herby’s penchant for going unshod had nothing on a true dweller. “If it’s a three-master, Raisho, she could still be a merchanter. Goblins don’t often use three-masters because they have to maintain too many crew.”

“Aye, but if’n she’s a slave ship,” Raisho said, “she’s a big one.”

Goblins preferred small ships. Smaller crews meant less chance of two groups dividing from the original and fighting for control. Smaller cargo space meant that the area filled more quickly and required frequent trips back to spend the crew’s ill-gotten gain.

Memory of long, hot hours spent belowdecks in the slaver ships pursued Juhg up the mountainside. He went on all fours, like a mouse hugging the ground while knowing it was in the hawk’s eye. He felt that old fear of goblinkin almost overcome him, almost send him into hiding to leave Raisho to fend for himself, to spy alone.

Stop!

Juhg forced himself to breathe when his lungs threatened to seize up. He also made himself keep the young sailor’s pace.

Only a few feet farther on, Raisho came to a halt. The young sailor remained within the embrace of shadows that fell along the south side of the northern mountain ridge. He kept one hand on his leather-wrapped cutlass hilt. He stared out to sea across the harbor.

“Do ye see it?” Raisho demanded.

Crouching on the incline, precariously balanced but trusting his dweller’s innate surefootedness despite the boots he wore, Juhg followed the line of Raisho’s pointing finger.

Out in the Sea of Frozen Teeth, a single ship fought the wind and the waves. Sails streamed from three masts, just as Raisho claimed. Her prow crashed through the tall waves that sent spray up over her bowsprit and ratlines.

“Do ye see it?” Raisho asked a little louder.

“Yes,” Juhg said. “You don’t have to shout.”

“I didn’t think ye heard me over the surf. It’s powerful loud up here.”

“Not as loud as you are. My eyes just aren’t as good as yours.”

“From all that scribblin’ an’ drawin’,” Raisho agreed. “Tasks like that, why, I bet they’re unforgivin’ hard on a man’s eyes. That’s why ye can give me the sea an’ a favorable wind any day over workin’ at a job within walls.”

The ship rolled over the unruly waves, bobbing like flotsam instead of cutting a straight course for the protection of the harbor. Lighted lanterns danced aboard the vessel, revealing the crew running about her decks to make certain they weren’t about to crash into an iceberg or reef or another ship lost in the night. Once, the lanterns touched a large gleaming ice mass to starboard and the helm made the necessary corrections to pull away from the danger. The sails luffed a bit as the crew adjusted them, not pulled clean and tight as
Windchaser
’s crew kept them.

“Is she a goblin ship?” Juhg asked.

“Can’t tell yet,” Raisho called back. “But she’s definitely a cog. See that round-bellied cut of her?”

Juhg took in the ship’s design, memorizing her lines. In time, should he ever want to or should there ever be a cause for it, he knew he could draw the ship in his journal.

A cog was a small three-master. Used primarily along coastal waters and seldom straying out into the deep sea, cogs served as trading ships. A cog’s wide-bodied build, like that of a duck, ensured the vessel could carry a lot of cargo for such a short keel length.

“Crew’s not green,” Raisho said. “They’re workin’ her sails, right enough, but they’re sloppy.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s a goblin ship.”

“No. I’ve seen other ships’ crews struggle so. But goblins, Juhg, they ain’t ever come natural to the sea.”

“Nor do dwarves,” Juhg pointed out.

“No,” Raisho agreed. “But she definitely ain’t no elven ship. Ye can tell that straight enough. An elven ship, she’s all grace an’ power.”

And cursed,
Juhg thought unhappily. He shook his thoughts from that.

Rocking precariously, rolling hard to port as the prow cut the cold black sea under her, the ship caught the wind and sailed into the harbor. As the sea leveled inside the rocky breakwater that protected the port, the crew furled the sails. The distance made seeing the crew with any clarity impossible. In the middle of the harbor, the ship dropped anchor and glided to a halt.

“She’s sittin’ light in the water,” Raisho commented. “See how she’s driftin’ an’ fightin’ her tether?”

Juhg studied the ship, noting that her masts and yardarms bobbed continuously. “Yes.”

“Means she’s carryin’ little or no cargo.”

That fact afforded a little relief. If the ship was a goblin vessel and she was a slaver, dweller slaves—and maybe a few others—would fill her hold. And why would any ship sail into Kelloch’s Harbor without something to trade? A crew’s provisions cost a lot. Repairs cost even more. If no countertrades were in the offing, the price demanded would be in gold.

“Wouldn’t want to try an’ get a night’s sleep aboard her,” Raisho said. “Way she’s buckin’ an’ twistin’ even out in them protected waters, why, a man in his hammock would swing all night an’ have terrible nightmares of storms an’ shipwrecks an’ such.”