Into The Darkness

Eforiel rolled a little in the water, so she could look up at him from one large, dark eye. The leviathan let out what sounded like a puzzle' grunt. Cornelu understood why: he wasn't behaving as he usually did, when the two of them returned to their home port. Eforiel didn't understand that, if she blithely swam into Tirgoviste harbor now",

Cornelu would get blazed and she would either have eggs tossed at her or would be captured and pressed into the service of King Mezentio' men.

Instead of having her go into the harbor, Corneln started to guide her toward a little beach just outside Tirgoviste. There he could slip off her back, gain the shore, and… And what? he asked himself What 1 he do then? Go into town, rescue his wife, bring her back to Eforiel flee? The hero of an adventure romance might have managed with pausing somewhere in there to make love to her, too. In real life, fortunately, Cornelu had no notion how to bring off such a coup.

If he couldn't rescue Costache, could he head inland and join what [..eLl..] ever resistance to the Algarvian invaders might be brewing there? wondered how strong that resistance could be. Algarve was a much bigger kingdom than Sibiu, and boasted a much, much bigger army. She had relied upon her ships to keep her safe, and Mezentio had found a way to hoodwink them.

Besides, as a soldier Cornelu was nothing out of the ordinary. He was far more useful to King Burebistu as part of a team with Eforiel than by himself. He wished the leviathan had several eggs in the harness under her belly. Were that so, he might have done the invaders some real damage.

Eforiel grunted again, sensing his indecision: unlike dragons, leviathans liked men and understood them pretty well. "I need to know more," Cornelu said, almost as if he were talking to Costache. "That's what I need more than anything else. For all I know - powers above grant it be so - the invasion has failed on the other four islands. If it has, I can help reconquer Tirgoviste."

He patted the leviathan, steering her west toward Facaceni, the island closest to his own. Eforiel obeyed, but more slowly than she might have.

Had she been able to speak, she might have said something like, Are you sure this is what you want me to do? She was even more skeptical of any thing that smacked of innovation than the briniest old salt in the Sibian navy.

Cornelu wished with all his heart that some better course lay before him. He could see none, though. With no chance to be useful around Tirgoviste, he had to hope the island and port of Facaceni remained in Siblan hands. If they did, well and good. If not… He would not let himself worry about that now.

Dawn broke while Eforiel was still swimming west. Dragons flew high overhead - far too high for him to tell whether they bore Sibian colors or those of Algarve. None of them swooped down to drop an egg on the leviathan. For that, at least, Cornelu was grateful.

It was the first thing he'd found for which he might be grateful since discovering his kingdom invaded. Before long, he became convinced it was the last thing for which he might be grateful for some time to come.

Before he saw the hills at the center of Facaceni rise over the horizon, he spotted a great cloud of smoke towering higher than those hills. Unless

Facaceni had suffered a natural disaster, it had suffered disaster at the hands of the Algarvians.

Cornelia had never wished so hard for an earthquake. But wishes, no matter how fervent, were sorcerous nullities. Cornelu had no skill in magecraft, any more than a mage was likely to have skill in riding leviathans. Learning to do one thing well was hard enough in this world; learning to do more than one thing well often pressed the limits of the possible.

Not that even magecraft could annul what had already happened. As Eforiel drew Cornelu ever nearer the harbor of Facaceni, he saw for himself that King Mezentio's men were there before him. Sailing ships had emptied soldiers out on to the quays, as they had at Tirgoviste - as they had, probably, at every Sibian port.

And, just as Cornelu had guessed, the rest of the Algarvian navy had followed the invasion fleet south. Algarvian and Sibian ships were tossing eggs at each other outside the harbor, and blazing with powerful sticks.

Every time a beam went low, a great cloud of steam rose from the ocean.

Eforiel shuddered beneath Cornelu. She paid no attention to the beams, but eggs bursting in the water frightened her. She had reason to fear, too; a burst too near might kill her. Cornelu dared approach Facaceni no closer.

A puff of steam rising only a couple of hundred yards away warned that he might already have come too close. It came not from a stick but from another leviathan spouting. A moment later, leviathan and rider broke the surface. "Who are you?" the rider called to Cornelu.