The night was very quiet. The faint hiss and smack of cloven water, creak of planks and tackle, distant splashing of waves and invisible sea beasts—otherwise there was only the enormous silence under the high clouds. The breeze was cool on their cheeks.
"How long till we get to the Sea of Demons?" asked Imazu. His voice was oddly hushed in the huge stillness.
"With ordinary sailing weather, I'd say about three ten-days—maybe four," answered Corun indifferently.
"It's a strange mission we're on, aye, that it is." Imazu's head wagged, barely visible in the dark. "I like it not, Corun. I have evil feelings about it, and the omens I took before leaving weren't good."
"Why then did you sail? You're a free man, aren't you?"
"So they say!" Sudden bitterness rose in the Umlotuan's voice. "Free as any of Shorzon's followers, which is to say less free than a slave, who can at least run away."
"Why, doesn't he pay well?"
"Oh, aye, he is lavish in that regard. But he has his ways of binding servants to him so that they must do his bidding above that of the very gods. He put his geas on most of these sailors, for instance. They were simple folk, and thought he was only magicking them a good-luck charm."
"You mean they are bound? He has their souls?"
"Aye. He put them to sleep in some sorcerous way and impressed his command on them. No matter what happens now, they must obey him. The geas is stronger than their own wills."