Toli screamed something unintelligible and Quentin saw a wolf standing on its hind legs with its paws on Toli’s back, jaws snapping wildly.

There was a growl before him and Quentin looked down into the wolf’s evil yellow eyes. The wolf snarled savagely and bared its cruel fangs, coiling itself, snake-like, for a strike.

Then Quentin heard a squeal from the bushes beside him. Another wolf? It did not sound like a wolf. He heard more squeals and the sound of something big crashing recklessly through the underbrush.

The wolf heard it too and turned its baleful eyes from Quentin to look to the brush behind it.

All at once the bushes erupted in high-pitched squeals and the crashing sound of small hooves tearing among the branches. Dark shapes like boulders came dashing through the clearing from the far side of the forest.

The dark forms raced headlong into the wolves, squealing and snorting as they ran. The wolves, snarling in terror, turned to face this new foe.

One of the dark creatures brushed by Quentin nearly knocking him off his feet. It was then that Quentin realized the squealing shapes were those of wild pigs-boars and sows.

The wild pigs, led by a huge boar with long curving tusks, bolted with a fury into the thick of the wolves. Toli leaped aside as they came crashing into the clearing to engage the wolves.

Fur flew. The tear of flesh and the meaty crunch of living bone being splintered could be heard amid the yelp of the terrorized wolves.

The large white wolf, the leader which had begun the attack, barked once and made a dash for the forest. Those of his marauding band that could still run turned tail and followed him as the pigs snuffled after them.

In moments they were gone, and Quentin stood fighting for his breath in the center of the clearing. All that could be heard was the receding crash of the wild pigs in thundering pursuit of the fleeing wolves.

Then Toli was beside him peering into his face in quiet wonder. Toli’s face was wet from sweat and blood from a small cut over his eye. “Are you all right, Kenta?” he asked, touching Quentin on the arm with his fingertips.

“Yes. I am fine. But you are bleeding.”

“I am not hurt-just a scratch.” He turned to where the sounds of pursuit were dying away in the forest.

“I have never seen anything like it,” breathed Quentin. “Have you?”

Toli shook his head. “It is known among my people that wild pigs will sometimes fight off a wolf which threatens their young. But this… this is a mighty sign. Whinoek has raised his hand to protect us.”

“The god must care about us very much,” said Quentin, remembering his desperate prayer of only moments ago.

“Yes,” agreed Toli, thankfully. “But there is something else.”

Quentin waited for him to say what it was.

“There is plenty of game in this forest for wolves to pull down-deer and pigs, the old and sick. Much safer than taking on humans with horses. Wolves do not attack men-only rarely, in the deep of winter when food runs scarce and they starve.”

“What made them do it?” Quentin’s eyes went round. “Nimrood?”

Toli gave a cryptic shrug and raised his eyes above where the trees met overhead. The small patch of sky showed a dull iron blue. “The sun is coming up soon. We must be on our way.”

Together they set about calming the horses and breaking camp as quickly as possible. Though neither spoke it was clear to both they wanted to be far away as soon as possible.

THIRTY

CAPTAIN Pyggin had threatened not to give his men their usual rum ration, a customary gesture when a ship reached port. But, as were most of his threats, it was an idle one. As darkness fell the rum pots were filled and the rowdy play of the crew began.

The captives could hear the raucous clamor of drunken voices raised in song. The wild revel would normally have lasted far into the night, but the rum, acting in harmony with the power of Durwin’s drug, heightened its effect. Thus, after a few salty choruses and a drink or two the men collapsed upon the deck where they stood-a normal happenstance on a night like this, but the outcome hastened thanks to Durwin’s art.

Abruptly, the singing stopped, and the snores of crewmembers could be heard droning softly against the wash of the waves.

“So it is!” announced Durwin, “that is the remedy. Now to business.”

“Be careful, Alinea,” warned Theido. “There may be one or two still on their feet. Stay out of sight until you have a chance to look around.”

“I will,” she said. “Now stop worrying, I will have you out of here in no time.” Alinea, looking more like a stable boy than any queen, ascended the rude staircase of cargo and pushed open the hatch while the others gathered below.

“Oh, my Lady,” moaned Trenn nervously, “I’d rather you let me take your place.”

Durwin smiled, “No need. Besides you would not likely fit through that hatch in your present shape. Come, let us make ready to be off.”

The three ascended the steep steps to the chained and bolted door. Presently they heard Alinea’s soft footfall approaching. “What do you see?” asked Theido when she had reached the door.

“All are fast asleep, save the cook and his galley servant. They sit nodding in their cups beside a rum pot on the far side of the deck.”

“Can they see us from there?”

A pause. "No… I do not think so. Anyway, it will soon be beyond their power to stand up, let alone draw sword against a knight.”

“We must find the keys to these locks-how many are there?”

“There are two, and the door itself. Where should I begin looking?”

“The captain’s lackey,” suggested Trenn. “Unless I miss my guess, he was the rat that brought the food and fetched the rope.”

“Good eyes, man!” said Theido. And then to Alinea, “Find the man who brought us our food. He wears a blue coat and a squint, as I recall.”

“He’ll likely be found in the captain’s shadow,” offered Trenn.

“Yes, look for the captain.”

They heard her footsteps leave and stood waiting for her return. A minute passed. Then another, and another. Each one seemed to stretch out far beyond its normal limit.

Finally, they heard her return. “I cannot find the man, though I found Pyggin. He had no keys on him.”

“What do we do now?” wondered Theido.

“If I were up there I would find that pirate. Those keys are up there in a pocket somewhere.” Trenn clenched his fists as he spoke.

He had no sooner finished speaking than they heard a low nimble from somewhere far away. “What was that? Listen!”

“It is thunder,” said Alinea. “The sky is clear, but I can see a storm approaching from the east. There is lightning. It looks a large storm. And it is moving fast.”

“We have got to find those keys,” muttered Theido.

“What about the other hatch?” suggested Durwin. “The main cargo hatch. We could climb out from there with ease.”

“Alinea, we are going to try the main cargo hatch. How is it secured?” As Theido spoke thunder cracked in the distance.

“Listen,” said Trenn, “The wind is rising.”

It was true. They could now hear the wind singing in the high rigging of the ship-fitfully, but with growing force.

“I had best wake Ronsard,” said Durwin. “He may need time to gather his strength.”

Alinea returned from looking at the main hatch. “It is a simple hasp with a single staple-it will require no key. They have beaten a wedge through the staple. I may remove it if I can find something to loosen it with.” She hurried away again in search of a tool.

“Come,” said Theido, “let us be ready to leave here as soon as the hatch is opened.”

The three set about busily restacking casks and kegs, most of which were empty, in a rude stairway that fell short only a few spans from the hatch. Theido stood on the top of the pile while Trenn and Durwin handed him the items needed to construct the precarious stairway. Ronsard sat to one side, complaining, “I am fit, I tell you. I can lend a hand…”