Alan Dean Foster SS3 The Day of the Dissonance

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4'Now what's the mattah?"
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"I've done a tot of running, Roseroar, and I'm a pretty good swimmer, but the
sea's rough and my shoulders are so sore from pushing that damn scrub brush
that I'm not sure if I can make it. You go on. I'll try and catch up.
When you cast off the line you can swing her 'round and pick me out of the
water."
She shook her head. "Ah declah, ah nevah heard any-
one, not even a human, talk so damn much. Grab hold."
She turned her back to him.
Deciding this wasn't the time to salvage whatever remained of his already
bruised male ego, he put both arms around her neck, using one to help balance
Folly. Roseroar ig-
nored her double burden as she went hand over hand down the towrope until all
of them were standing safe on the deck of the John B.
"Cast off!" Jon-Tom shouted at Mudge as he ran for the stern. "I'll take the
wheel. Roseroar, you run the sails up."
"With pleasure." She dumped Folly's unconscious form onto the deck. Jon-Tom
winced as it hit, decided that one more black and blue mark wouldn't show up
against the background of bruises that covered the girl's entire body.
Roseroar worked two winches at once while Mudge hacked away with his short
sword at the thick hauser linking them to the pirate ship. In seconds the
sloop swung clear. Her sails climbed the mast, caught the wind. Jon-
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Alan Dean Foster
Tom turned her as confused shouts and cries of outrage began to sound from the
deck of the larger vessel.
"Not a moment too soon." Jalwar spoke admiringly from his position atop the
center cabin. "You have the gift, it is certain."
Jon-Tom shrugged off the compliment and concentrated on catching as much wind
as possible. "I didn't study for it and I didn't plan on it. It's just a lucky
combination of my musical training and something I've picked up in this
world."
"Nonetheless, it cannot be denied. You have the gift."
For an instant it was as if the years had left the ferret and a different
being entirely was standing next to the mainmast looking down at Jon-Tom. He
blinked once, but when he looked again it was just the same Jalwar, aged and
stooped and tired. The ferret turned away and stum-
bled toward the bow to see if he could help Mudge or
Roseroar.
The tigress had the rigging well in hand, and at Jon-
Tom's direction, Mudge was breaking out the sloop's spinnaker. Behind them,
furious faces lined the port side of the pirate ship. Rude gestures and
bloodthirsty curses filled the air. Above all sounded a thunderous cackling
from Corroboc. The faces fled the railing, to reappear elsewhere on the ship
as the crew swarmed up the masts.
Oars began to dip as dull-eyed galley slaves took up the cue provided by whip
and drum. The big ship began to come about.
But this time the sloop was sailing with the wind to port. The square-rigged
pirate craft could not tack as well as the modern, fore-rigged sloop, nor
could it overtake them on oar power. Still, with the galley slaves driven to
collapse, it looked for a moment as if Corroboc might still close the distance
between vessels. Then Mudge finally puzzled out the rigging that lifted the
spinnaker. The racing sail ballooned to its full extent, filled with wind, and
the sloop fairly leaped away from its pursuers.
THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE
133
"We made it, we're away!" Jon-Tom shouted gleefully.
Mudge joined him in the stern. The otter balanced precariously on the bobbing
aft end railing, turned his back to the pirate ship, and pulled down his
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pants. Bending over, he made wonderfully insulting faces between his legs. The
pirates responded with blood-chilling promises of what they'd do if they
caught the sloop, but their words, like their ship, were rapidly falling
astern.
"Yes, we made it." Jalwar glanced speculatively up at the billowing sails. "If
the wind holds."
As soon as his audience had dropped out of sight, Mudge ceased his contortions
and jumped to the deck, buttoning his shorts.
"We'll make it all right, guv'nor." He was smiling broadly as he gave Jon-Tom
a friendly whack on the back.
"Bake me for a brick, mate, but you sure 'ad me fooled!
'Ere I was expectin' you to conjure up somethin' like a ten-foot-tall demon to
demolish them bastards, and instead you slickered me as well as them."
"I knew that if I tried anything overt, Corroboc would have me riding a pike
before the day was out." Jon-Tom adjusted their heading.
"Aye, that 'e would. Crikey but that were a neat slip o'
thought, puttin' 'em all gentle to beddy-bye like you did, and then freein' up
the monster missus there." He nodded
in Roseroar's direction.
"Actually I'd intended to go looking for the key,"
Jon-Tom told him, trying to hide his embarrassment.
"When I realized I didn't have the slightest idea where
Corroboc's keyring was hidden I knew the only chance we had left was to free
Roseroar."
The tigress stepped down from the mast to join them, staring back over the
stern. "Ah only wish ah'd had a few minutes to mahself on that boat." Her eyes
narrowed and she growled low enough to chill the blood of her compan-
ions. "That fust mate, fo example. Wouldn't he have been surprised when he'd
woke up without his "
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Alan Dean Poster
"Roseroar," Jon-Tom chided her, "that's no way for a lady to talk."
She showed sharp teeth, huge fangs. "That depends on the lady, don't it,
Jon-Tom?" Suddenly she pushed past him, frowning as she squinted into the
distance.
"What's wrong?" he asked, turned to look aft.
She spoke evenly, unafraid, and ready.
"Looks like we ain't finished with ol' Corroboc yet."
IX
"Gel below, Jalwar," Jon-Tom told the ferret. "You'll be of no use to us on
deck."
"I must disobey, sir." The oldster had picked up a long fishing gaff and was
hefting it firmly. "I am not going back onto that floating purgatory. I'd
rather die here."
Jon-Tom nodded, held his staff ready in front of him. In planning and
executing their subtle flight from the pirate ship he'd forgotten one thing.
Forgotten it because he'd been in mis strange world so long he'd come to think
of it as normal. So when he'd planned their escape he hadn't considered that
they might have to deal with the fact that
Corroboc and several of his crew could fly.
There were only six of them. The captain must have threatened all of them with
dismemberment to force so small a group to make the attack. Behind the parrot
flew a couple of big ravens, a hawk, and a small falcon. They were armed with
thin spears and light swords.
Jon-Tom set the sloop on automatic pilot, which left him free to join the
fight. Jalwar thought the flashing red light
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of this new magic fascinating.
The fliers were fast and agile. Corroboc in particular
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Alan Dean Foster might be short an eye and a leg, but there was nothing wrong
with his wings. He dove and twisted as he thrust, keeping just out of range of
his former prisoner's weapons.
Nevertheless, it soon became clear that the pirates were overmatched.
Corroboc's strategy was good. It called for his crew to stay just beyond sword
range while striking with their needlelike spears. It might even have worked
except for the one joker in the sloop's deck. With his longbow, Mudge
gleefully picked off first the falcon and then wounded one of the ravens.
This forced the attackers to close with their quarry, and their agility
couldn't compensate for their relatively small size. One of Roseroar's
spinning swords sliced the wounded raven in half. Then another of Mudge's
arrows pierced the hawk's thin armor. When he saw that he couldn't hope to win
either at long range or in close, Corroboc ordered a retreat.
"Have a care for your gullets, scum!" the parrot shouted at them as he danced [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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