Read Online Fable: Edge of the World by Christie Golden - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christie Golden
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when I swore fealty to her and the king—to devote myself to serving them and protecting them. I couldn’t bear to let them down.”
“I understand,” said Page, and she did. The trick was, how to make Laylah understand.
Chapter Seven
A fter two weeks during which the idea of dry land that was actually both A) dry and B) land became everyone’s wildest dream, the shore was finally sighted. The joyful cry of “Land ho!” from the first ship to behold it was caught up and echoed with cheers from ship to ship. Right now, it was only a speck against the horizon, but in a few hours, they would all have to get their land legs again. Everyone was pleased at the prospect. Everyone, it seemed, except Kalin, who stepped beside the king and turned her aquiline face to the brownish smudge on the horizon.
“The sun is already sinking,” she said.
“It is,” said the king. “It will be full-on night before we can make landing. Not only would it be unwise to attempt to unload such massive weaponry in the darkness, but—”
“But there is the darkness itself to fear,” said Kalin. “We will have to wait until dawn.”
The king agreed and issued the orders. No one overtly complained—the logic was too sound—but no one was happy about it, either.
“At least we can have a hot meal tonight,” said the
Queen
Laylah
’s cook, and that seemed to brighten a few spirits. As night fell, everyone came up on deck to enjoy the clear, calm evening. The sunset was beautiful, and the hot meal, a simple beef stew and hard tack to go with it, tasted like the finest meal the king had ever had.
“Look!” said Finn. He held up a spoonful of stew, and the king could see steam wafting off of it. The king laughed. Someone broke out a lute and began to regale them with lively tunes. Many voices joined in, and some brave folks even got up to dance.
The cold set in once the sun finally set. Even so, most seemed to prefer settling in for the night on deck, where there was fresh, if cool, air, and no rain for a change. The king stood and leaned up against the railing. He peered down but could see nothing in the darkness as the ship peacefully rocked at anchor. He looked up, to the north, the shore of Samarkand no longer visible.
But something was.
He rubbed his eyes, making sure they weren’t playing tricks on him. No—they were lights, bobbing gently, pinpricks in the darkness but closing.
Lights from the lanterns of approaching vessels.
“All hands on deck!” cried the king. “Battle stations!” So the bastards weren’t even waiting for them to land before attacking. They—
A hand fell on his arm. “Your Majesty, these are not Samarkandian vessels. They are the trading ships from Aurora! Look at the colors of the lights—we tint our lantern glass that particular hue of red!”
Relief washed through him. “Belay that order!” he cried. “These are
our
ships!” The bustle of a crew about to engage in attack muted to shaky laughter then cheers.
“This is a good sign,” said Kalin, beaming. “The ships are greatly overdue, but they are intact and free to sail to greet us.”
“But why were they delayed at all?” the king asked.
“We will ask the crews and find out,” said Kalin. “I’m sure they will have much to tell us.” The ships were drawing closer now, and the king could faintly make out the distinctive Auroran design. He could even see faint shapes moving about on the deck. He narrowed his eyes. There was something he couldn’t put his finger on—something about the way they were moving, in a halting, jerky sort of manner, and there were little lights, barely visible, where their eyes—
“They’re hollow men!” he cried. “It’s a trick! Battle stations, everyone!”
The captain took over shouting orders while the king began loading his rifle. Beside him, Kalin looked stricken. “Get below and take Shan with you!” he shouted to her. “You’re a leader, not a fighter. Let us handle
“I understand,” said Page, and she did. The trick was, how to make Laylah understand.
Chapter Seven
A fter two weeks during which the idea of dry land that was actually both A) dry and B) land became everyone’s wildest dream, the shore was finally sighted. The joyful cry of “Land ho!” from the first ship to behold it was caught up and echoed with cheers from ship to ship. Right now, it was only a speck against the horizon, but in a few hours, they would all have to get their land legs again. Everyone was pleased at the prospect. Everyone, it seemed, except Kalin, who stepped beside the king and turned her aquiline face to the brownish smudge on the horizon.
“The sun is already sinking,” she said.
“It is,” said the king. “It will be full-on night before we can make landing. Not only would it be unwise to attempt to unload such massive weaponry in the darkness, but—”
“But there is the darkness itself to fear,” said Kalin. “We will have to wait until dawn.”
The king agreed and issued the orders. No one overtly complained—the logic was too sound—but no one was happy about it, either.
“At least we can have a hot meal tonight,” said the
Queen
Laylah
’s cook, and that seemed to brighten a few spirits. As night fell, everyone came up on deck to enjoy the clear, calm evening. The sunset was beautiful, and the hot meal, a simple beef stew and hard tack to go with it, tasted like the finest meal the king had ever had.
“Look!” said Finn. He held up a spoonful of stew, and the king could see steam wafting off of it. The king laughed. Someone broke out a lute and began to regale them with lively tunes. Many voices joined in, and some brave folks even got up to dance.
The cold set in once the sun finally set. Even so, most seemed to prefer settling in for the night on deck, where there was fresh, if cool, air, and no rain for a change. The king stood and leaned up against the railing. He peered down but could see nothing in the darkness as the ship peacefully rocked at anchor. He looked up, to the north, the shore of Samarkand no longer visible.
But something was.
He rubbed his eyes, making sure they weren’t playing tricks on him. No—they were lights, bobbing gently, pinpricks in the darkness but closing.
Lights from the lanterns of approaching vessels.
“All hands on deck!” cried the king. “Battle stations!” So the bastards weren’t even waiting for them to land before attacking. They—
A hand fell on his arm. “Your Majesty, these are not Samarkandian vessels. They are the trading ships from Aurora! Look at the colors of the lights—we tint our lantern glass that particular hue of red!”
Relief washed through him. “Belay that order!” he cried. “These are
our
ships!” The bustle of a crew about to engage in attack muted to shaky laughter then cheers.
“This is a good sign,” said Kalin, beaming. “The ships are greatly overdue, but they are intact and free to sail to greet us.”
“But why were they delayed at all?” the king asked.
“We will ask the crews and find out,” said Kalin. “I’m sure they will have much to tell us.” The ships were drawing closer now, and the king could faintly make out the distinctive Auroran design. He could even see faint shapes moving about on the deck. He narrowed his eyes. There was something he couldn’t put his finger on—something about the way they were moving, in a halting, jerky sort of manner, and there were little lights, barely visible, where their eyes—
“They’re hollow men!” he cried. “It’s a trick! Battle stations, everyone!”
The captain took over shouting orders while the king began loading his rifle. Beside him, Kalin looked stricken. “Get below and take Shan with you!” he shouted to her. “You’re a leader, not a fighter. Let us handle
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