‘We should board a few,’ Torvald said. ‘There will be tools, maybe even weapons. I could swim over-there, that raider. It’s not yet awash, and I see lots of wreckage.’

Karsa sensed the Daru’s hesitation. ‘What is wrong? Swim.’

‘Uh, I am a little concerned, friend. I seem to have not much strength left, and these chains on me…’

The Teblor said nothing for a moment, then he grunted. ‘So be it. No more can be asked of you, Torvald Nom.’

The Daru slowly turned to regard Karsa. ‘Compassion, Karsa Orlong? Is it helplessness that has brought you to this?’

‘Too many empty words from you, lowlander,’ the Teblor sighed. ‘There are no gifts that come from being-’

A soft splash sounded, then sputtering and thrashing-the sputtering turning into laughter. Torvald, now alongside the raft, moved into Karsa’s line of sight. ‘Now we know why those ships are canted so!’ And the Teblor saw that Torvald was standing, the water lapping around his upper chest. ‘I can drag us over, now. This also tells us we’re the ones who’ve been drifting. And there’s something else.’

‘What?’

The Daru had begun pulling the raft along, using Karsa’s chains. ‘These ships all grounded during the battle-I think a lot of the hand to hand fighting was actually between ships, chest-deep in water.’

‘How do you know this?’

‘Because there’s bodies all around me, Karsa Orlong. Against my shins, rolling about on the sands-it’s an unpleasant feeling, let me tell you.’

‘Pull one up. Let us see these combatants.’

‘All in good time, Teblor. We’re almost there. Also, these bodies, they’re, uh, rather soft. We might find something more recognizable if there’s any on the ship itself. Here’-there was a bump-‘we’re alongside. A moment, while I climb aboard.’

Karsa listened to the Daru’s grunts and gasps, the slipping scrabble of his bare feet, the rustle of chains, finally followed by a muted thud.


Then silence.

‘Torvald Nom?’

Nothing.

The raft’s end beyond Karsa’s head bumped alongside the raider’s hull, then began drifting along it. Cool water flowed across the surface, and Karsa recoiled at the contact, but could do nothing as it seeped beneath him. ‘Torvald Nom!’ His voice strangely echoed. No reply.

Laughter rumbled from Karsa, a sound oddly disconnected from the Teblor’s own will. In water that, had he been able to stand, would likely rise no higher than his hips, he would drown. Assuming there would be time for that. Perhaps Torvald Nom had been slain-it would be a bizarre battle if there had been no survivors-and even now, beyond his sight, the Teblor was being looked down upon, his fate hanging in the balance.

The raft edged near the ship’s prow. A scuffling sound, then, ‘Where? Oh.’

‘Torvald Nom?’

Footsteps, half-stumbling, moved alongside from the ship’s deck. ‘Sorry, friend. I think I must have passed out. Were you laughing a moment ago?’

‘I was. What have you found?’

‘Not much. Yet. Bloodstains-dried. Trails through it. This ship has been thoroughly stripped. Hood below-you’re sinking!’

‘And I do not think you will be able to do anything about it, lowlander. Leave me to my fate. Take the water, and my weapons-’

But Torvald had reappeared, rope in his hand, sliding down over the gunnel near the high prow and back into the water. Breathing hard, he fumbled with the rope for a moment before managing to slip it underneath the chains. He then drew it along and repeated the effort on the other side of the raft. A third time, down near Karsa’s left foot, then a fourth loop opposite.

The Teblor could feel the wet, heavy rope being dragged through the chains. ‘What are you doing?’

Torvald made no reply. Still trailing the rope, he climbed back onto the ship. There was another long stretch of silence, then Karsa heard movement once more, and the rope slowly tautened.

Torvald’s head and shoulders moved into view. The lowlander was deathly pale. ‘Best I could do, friend. There may be some more settling, but hopefully not much. I will check again on you in a little while. Don’t worry, I won’t let you drown. I’m going to do some exploring right now-the bastards couldn’t have taken everything .’ He vanished from Karsa’s line of sight.

The Teblor waited, racked with shivering as the sea slowly embraced him. The level had reached his ears, muting all sounds other than the turgid swirl of water. He watched the four lengths of rope slowly growing tighter above him.



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