Finally, at the end of the eleventh day, she admitted him to her bed again, and as they lay in delicious exhaustion afterwards she told him of her plans for the voyage. It was a daring scheme she had in mind, and the risks of disaster were great, but the rewards of success would be even greater.

The County of Tram lay near the northern end of the coast of Mardha. It was almost an island, about sixty miles by thirty, and connected to the coast by a long isthmus no more than two miles wide. To save coastal shipping the long and dangerous passage around the shores of the County, the Counts of Tram had built a canal through the isthmus, for which they charged a stiff toll. A fair-sized town had grown up around the canal. In addition, there were at this time of year seldom less than thirty ships waiting at either end of the canal for passage. And there was the money from the tolls, stored in small forts at either end also. There were few places in the Four Kingdoms where so much wealth was concentrated in such a small area.

Not that it was entirely ripe for the plucking. The counts maintained a fair-sized fleet of war galleys and armed merchant vessels to patrol their coasts and the approaches to the canal. Also, both the canal entrances and the town were fortified in a rather haphazard fashion. Any large fleet approaching would certainly be detected and engaged on the way in. And no single ship could carry enough fighters to face the garrisons.

But two or three ships might achieve surprise, particularly if they came in by night, skirting the northern and eastern coasts that were supposed to be too reef-strewn for safe navigation. Cayla knew passages through the reefs-she said they were marked in ancient charts drawn up by the Serpent Priestesses.

«And as for the rest-it is always easiest to take a fortress that has not been threatened for many years. Its defenders become lazy and their watchfulness fades, because they think they have no need to worry.» Almost as an afterthought, she added, «The Counts of Tram were great in the persecution of our Cult. They stuffed their coffers with gold and jewels looted from our shrines, and they filled their dungeons and torture chambers with our priestesses and acolytes.» There was a flare of vengeful rage in her eyes.

Esdros, the former first mate, was joining them with his new ship, Spider Prince. But they needed a third, if possible.

«What about Tuabir and Thunderbolt?» asked Blade. «He seems to be a tough fighter and a good captain. And Thunderbolt's larger and has a bigger crew than either Prince or Witch.»

«All that is true,» said Cayla. «But I cannot help thinking that Tuabir is your friend and supporter more than mine.»

«If I am your Companion, my friends and supporters are yours.»

«Are they, Blahyd? I often wonder whether you seek to build up your faction within our faction.»

«Tuabir will not turn down a chance to score a great victory and win great booty,» said Blade, to turn the conversation away from this touchy area. «And if he values my friendship, he will follow those I follow.»

«He will if he values his life,» said Cayla shortly. «So be it. That will give us nearly three hundred good fighters. If we cannot make the Count of Tram howl with those, I shall give up my place as a Captain to someone who can!» Blade devoutly wished that last sentence might prove more than a mere verbal flourish.

Recruiting Thunderbolt caused more delay. This annoyed Cayla, since there were only about six weeks left for raiding voyages before the winter storms set in. It relieved Blade, however, since he had no desire to see Cayla get any more wealth and influence than she had now, even if his own would increase along with hers. It also gave him more time to consider how best to make his escape from Neral and somehow contrive to make his way to the shores of Royth with Alixa and Brora. He could not conceivably make his own escape and leave them on Neral to face a certain and horrible death.

There could be no way off the southern end of the island. Over the cliffs there was no possible route, unless one were a combination of bird and fish. And there was no way out through the passage. All of those fortifications could keep someone in as easily as keep them out.

Off the northern part of the island, beyond the Mountain? More possible. That area was flat and comparatively unguarded. There were apparently only enough sentries there to keep out casual trespassers and keep in the household and plantation slaves. Some of the wealthier Captains had small villas on the northern slopes of the Mountain and small yachts in creek-mouth along the northern coast. If the three of them could make it across the Mountain and manage to steal one of those yachts, and if they could then get a good head start toward the coast of Royth before the alarm was raised-well, the Ocean was large. Even Cayla's influence would hardly be enough to turn out the whole Brotherhood after him. It was a hair-raisingly risky project, but apparently the best hope he had. And in any case, there was no need to do anything serious about it for some months yet, until the end of the coming winter. Trying to sail a small yacht all the way to Royth against the winter storms would simply be a complicated way to commit suicide. Blade firmly put the matter of escape from Neral out of his mind and concentrated on the raid against Tram.

Tuabir had been dubious about the raid at first, but once he had agreed to join it, he drove his own men and the dockyard crews as though sea monsters would swallow them all up if Thunderbolt were not ready for sea in three days at the latest. So did Captain Esdros. But enough days still passed to make Cayla short-tempered and snappish before all three ships were manned, equipped, stored, and ready for sea.

Tuabir and Esdros were new as Captains, and Cayla was not one of the most popular ones, so there were no crowds to see them off. Perhaps there would have been none in any case, for they slipped out through the passage in the pale gray light of early dawn, with lanterns still burning to illuminate the dark passage and make the faint curls of foam from the oars glimmer. Clear of the reefs, they raised sail to the brisk following wind and swung away on a broad reach toward the west and their goal.

They sighted the high peak called the Helmet that marked the northeastern corner of Tram only thirteen days out from Neral. Tuabir's navigation had brought the squadron directly to their intended landfall. Almost too close, in fact, since Cayla said there were watchposts on the Helmet that scanned the sea for the approach of hostile fleets. The squadron turned north for half a day, then east again, and it was not until the sun was going down on the fifteenth day of their voyage that Cayla ordered course changed to the south again. She brought out a brass tube, uncapped it, and pulled out a chart yellow with age and frayed with much handling. Blade could recognize the outlines of the land masses, but could not read a single word or number.

Cayla did not bother to explain, but went forward with the chart and a small silver box. She gave strict orders that none were to go forward of amidships until she gave the word. Blade and Brora sat down on the deck, with the rest of the crew behind them. They waited nervously while Sea Witch drifted aimlessly and the other two ships formed in a line behind her.

A low murmur from forward made Blade's flesh crawl. Cayla was chanting an incantation. A pungent whiff of the same smoke he had smelled in the underground shrine drifted aft. Then he started violently, feeling his hair stand on end.

Something large was moving in the water just below the bow-something large and living. Blade heard a splashing, the sound of a rough surface dragging across metal, then a prolonged and unmistakable hissing noise. Cayla's voice rose again, louder this time, with a note of impatience. The hissing came again. Cayla spoke a single word. Then a quick rasp, a loud splash followed by several smaller ones, and silence.