The Hammer of the Sun by Michael Scott Rohan

honour, and my debt to you, the offer had to be made. You speak the truth, though I wish to the depths of my heart it were not so. 1 burn to help you, for your sake and Kara's; and I yearn still for the free adventure I once knew, and to see more of the world." He sighed again, and his voice took fire a moment, ere it sank to embers. "To cross the Seas of the Sunrise, to gaze upon the fabled lands beyond, I could envy you that in a happier cause! But I am bound to stay, to go on with my labours and my worries, and I add to them the fate of a friend adrift in the unknown without my aid."
    "Well," said Ils lightly, "not quite; he'll at least have mine…"
    "Which just leaves me," rumbled Roc, irascible and offhand as ever; and yet his words were hollowed out by deep disquiet. "Can't be sitting around here getting bored while you two go gallivanting -"
    But Elof could not let them finish. "The same for you as for the King, my lady! If not more! For his folk follow him all, and willingly. You still must win the trust of yours, for the east and for men; and if you cannot, who can? No, princess of the Elder Folk; you also are bound. And you," rounding on Roc, "what of your bonds? I'll not ruin your life for the faint chance of mending mine! Marja bade you farewell for a summer only; what of her, if you do not return?"
    Roc shrugged, seeming very uneasy, and turned away once more. "I can't say!" he said between his teeth. "But I should still come, damn you!"
    Elof shook his head. "No more, any of you. We have seen too much together to say more, I think. I should wind no other in the webs of my own folly, no friends, no crews; I should not weaken the fleet. I'll make my own way back to Morvanhal, find a boat there -"
    Kermorvan dismissed the idea with a curt wave. "None fit to cross the wide oceans in! All such we have with us; if there were others, I would have brought them. Take one, at least; do not burden me with so great a debt!" There was genuine pleading in his cold eyes, though he added crisply "And do not martyr yourself in foolish penitence! If you have a purpose, carry it through with sense; if you would help her, do it properly!"
    Elof drew a deep breath. "I will take a boat. But only one I can handle by myself -"
    "One of the cutters, then; though they are barely large enough for your need, and hard for one to handle. But we have nothing better. Unless… here!" He rose, and striding to the stern-post he unlatched the heavy wind-vane and tossed it to Elof. "I return you this, with thanks; we have fared well enough in the past without it, and it may make all the difference to you. When do you wish to leave?"
    Elof looked at the dimming sky. "At once, I fear. As soon as there is a wind; the land breeze after dark, perhaps. But first I must go back and find those damnable anklets; I let them fall in my panic. They could still be perilous; I will destroy them, as soon as I have the chance. But it must be done with care, to release what is within; unless -" He paused a moment, reflecting, "Unless they might be of some help. But first I must secure them. By your leave -"
    "Go, then," said Kermorvan sadly. "I will give the orders for the best cutter to be provisioned and made ready; it should not take long."
    It was now early dusk, the sky grey-clouded save where the sun glowed still through great streaks and slashes, like rich garb showing through a beggar's cloak. That made Elof s search all the harder; the campfires were not yet lit, and he had not thought to take a lantern ashore. Over root and through thicket he stumbled, cursing the dimness, unsure even quite where they had stood those few hours since, she and he. But the last thin gleam of the sun awoke an answer among a tuft of long grass well down the beach, and there he found first one anklet, then the other, already half buried in the dry sand. He must have hurled them from him in those blind moments; he could not remember. He loathed the sight of them now, scooped