Assail by Ian C. Esslemont

launch!’ Master Ghelath shouted.
    ‘Get us closer,’ Shimmer called.
    ‘Close enough!’ he answered, fierce. ‘I’ll not risk everyone for this.’
    Shimmer had to acknowledge something of the soundness of that and so with her teeth clenched tight she sent a curt nod to Bars.
    Bars grasped a sailor by the nape of his neck to set him on to his oar, then ran to where sailors were readying the long slender launch. He called out names to accompany him as he went.
    Mael’s Greetings
slowly edged closer to the pillars emerging in ever denser numbers from the waves. The sight reminded Shimmer of descriptions of the dolmens of Tien, except that those were carved and built by humans. This formation was so immense, and appeared to be rooted so far below the ocean, it could only be the work of the gods, or of nature itself.
    Some of the pillars were quite short, hardly topping the surf, and were washed by the larger breakers. It was on one of these short pillars, standing just above the waves, that the bonfire blazed.
    As
Mael’s Greetings
drifted, a figure came into view standing before the licking flames of the fire. A tall thin human shape, motionless, waiting, and Shimmer felt a shiver of recognition run through her. He’d come. At the last possible place he’d found a way to meet them. K’azz. She was certain.
    Rowed by six Avowed, including Bars, the launch surged through the waves and onward into the dark.
    ‘Turn us away a touch, Master Havvin,’ Ghelath murmured.
    ‘You worry too much,’ the old man grumbled, but he obeyed. The bowsprit began to edge to the north. They waited. The vessel rocked strongly in the rough seas. The surf roared loudly now, all the more terrifying as it was unseen but for the greenish phosphor glow where the waves crashed and foamed against the base of the cliffs.
    ‘Put up some sail,’ Master Ghelath ordered. ‘We need headway or we’ll swamp.’
    ‘Very well,’ Havvin answered, and raised his chin to Levin. The lad cupped his hands to his mouth.
    ‘Raise the fores’l!’
    The triangular foresail edged up and billowed, catching the wind, and the bows pulled over even further. Master Ghelath leaned forward over the stern deck rail. ‘Row, damn you!’
    The Avowed, who had paused to watch for the launch’s return, started guiltily and heaved on the oars. Next to Shimmer, Blues chuckled. ‘Can’t let them forget that,’ he murmured.
    She squinted off over the stern. ‘We’re not making too much headway, are we?’
    ‘They’ll catch up,’ he assured her. ‘Or break their oars trying.’
    After a time a long low shape detached itself from the dark blue gloom of the waves. Sailors hailed the launch and threw lines. Shimmer went to the side. A rope ladder was heaved over. Sitting amid the Avowed, dressed in old ragged travelling leathers, was K’azz. Catching her gaze, he offered a rueful half-smile, as if mocking himself, and saluted her.
    She just shook her head.
    When all were aboard, and the launch stored away atop the deck, Shimmer faced her commander. He looked travel-worn but hale – as hale as the man ever appeared now. His thin greying hair blew about his skull, the shape of which showed through. ‘What were you thinking?’ she accused him.
    ‘You’re going,’ he said, and he peered about at the gathered Avowed.
    ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘No matter what. We must.’
    ‘No matter what,’ he echoed, slowly nodding. ‘Yes. Well. I wish you hadn’t. But I should have known you’d call my bluff, Shimmer.’ And he inclined his head, acknowledging his defeat, and turned to take Bars’ hand before moving on to greet all.
    Blues edged close to Shimmer and the two watched their commander speaking with each Avowed. ‘He really didn’t want us to go,’ he murmured.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘That makes me wonder, then,’ he said, ‘just what it is that awaits us.’
    Shimmer had been thinking the same thing. What could be so terrifying, or dangerous? Then the name of the