Voyage of the Lanternfish

by C S Boyack

  "We're safer together, and we have a lot of weapons here. Maybe take Mal inside the wagon. He's not much of a fighter."

  Fala opened the shutters on the caravan then got Mal situated in a chair. She placed her weapon, then went to work on her old dress. She cut the skirt off, but retained the top. "Can't wear pants without a shirt. This one will do fine." She was part way through the new hem when the horn sounded.

  Dan heard James' horse break into a trot toward the sound of the horn. He left the stable and waved to his friend. James tucked his pistol back in his belt then slowed back down.

  Back beside the wagon, James remained in the saddle. "What's the situation?"

  "There's a new assassin poking around," Dan said.

  "Did you see him?"

  "No. The vegetables did."

  "I see." James climbed down then tied the horse.

  "They said the man even checked the brands on the animals."

  "That's curious. How did they know he's an assassin?"

  "They said he wore clothes like mine."

  "Lot's of people wear black."

  "But they don't snoop around our stuff."

  "You got all of that out of the creatures? They barely talk."

  "Make it sound stupid if you want, but I don't want no knife in my back, and I don't want anyone else to get one either."

  "You did fine. If there is an assassin, it was doubly smart. If not, we weren't doing anything else anyway. I'll unsaddle the pony. You stow the muskets then we can all go eat."

  James stopped in a dark portion of the street. He pulled out the derringer and handed it to Fala. "Dan and I have swords and pistols. Even Mal has a knife. If there is an assassin, you might need this. Remember, it's pretty useless unless you can touch someone before you fire. You'll have to figure out a place to tuck it away."

  Fala rolled down a piece of cloth that served as a sash then tucked the little pistol away from sight.

  "Nice dress," James said. He ran the back of his hand across Dan's face. "Look at you. I think I'll keep my whiskers for now." He faced the group once more. "Who's hungry?"

  "I know, I'm thirsty," Dan said. "That good enough?"

  "More than good enough."

  Mal placed Fala's bundles on her bed, then they all gathered around the table.

  "The last war started in Saphelon," James said. "Makes some sense, because that's Dad's country."

  "How's that help us today?" Dan asked.

  "Patience." James held up a finger. "Saphelon barely survived. Some kingdoms didn't. Saphelon only survived by allying themselves with Prelonia. That agreement is what helps us." He spread his arms wide for approval.

  "I don't get it?" Fala said.

  "Our war will be easier to start in Saphelon. They hate Hollish, the Hollish people, and everything about Hollish, so it won't be as hard to push them. Because of the treaty, Prelonia will have to step in to back their friends. Slap-damn, a war between Hollish and Prelonia. We claim our prize and go home."

  "So what's our next move?"

  "I don't know – yet. We need to create unrest in Saphelon, maybe pose as invaders a time or two, enough to get troops to the borders. Maybe we fire off a couple of mortar shells and skedaddle. Let nature take its course. Tomorrow, I'm looking into the Saphish to see what might really piss them off. Old war stories, rumors, anything like that."

  "When do we leave?" Dan asked.

  "Not yet. I have more work to do here. This is just one piece in a game with many pieces."

  "Let's drink to your small success then."

  "Aye Aye, mate." They all headed downstairs.

  After supper, James pushed his chair back once more.

  Dan jumped to his feet. "Not tonight, mate. Not if there's an assassin about. If you insist, I'll follow you."

  "Alright. Maybe you can let me have the room for a couple of hours. I need to digest all this information, along with the hen from supper."

  A truce arranged, James went back upstairs. Dan, Fala, and Mal listened to a fiddle player for hours before turning in. When they went upstairs, James wasn't there.

  James strolled up and down each dock, occasionally checking the mooring of a ship, putting a finger to his hat whenever a crewman spotted him.

  The end of the third dock was empty. Even the lamps weren't lit. The only light came from quarters on a ship tied to the second dock.

  "Hello, mate," a rough voice said.

  James cleared his coat away from his pistol before turning.

  "No need for that. I mean you no harm. Seen you down here walking the nights away. Been watching you."

  "What for? And come forward so I can see you."

  "You're a cautious man, I see that. Well armed too." The man stepped forward. Long grey stubble covered his face. He wore a small tricorn, and carried a cutlass. "I seen your type before."

  "And what type is that?"

  "Long stares out at the water. Touching the ships as you pass. Hand on your face while you're thinking of something. Probably a big loss of some kind. Family farm? Lost love? Maybe a title? Something along that route."

  "Pretty close, mate."

  "A few of my mates and I been lookin for a fellow like you. You're a man of the sea, and can't wait to get back to it."

  "I'm sure there are plenty like me around. Good luck in finding someone."

  "Hold up, mate. We're just talking. Name's Johnny Jump Up. There's men around like you and I, but not too many with money to invest."

  "I don't have any money, sorry."

  "Your mates bought a chest. Carried it back to the Ghost yesterday. Looked real heavy. They spent some too. Nice kit the lady bought. Kind of pricy. Seems like you own a slave too."

  "How long have you been watching us?"

  "Longer than that fella all dressed in black. He only showed up the other day. Asks a lot of questions about who's new in town. Asked if anyone's been flashing a lot of gold around."

  "Speaking of him, maybe you wouldn't mind continuing this conversation back at the tavern."

  "Naw. Too many ears at the Ghost. There's another tavern, just down the way. It has ears too, but nobody cares. Called the Dead Man's Rest. Heard of it?"

  "Saw it from a distance last night."

  "Don't want you to think I'm leading you into a trap. You go there. Order a bucket of beer. I'll be along in about half an hour. It's a safe neighborhood, but you might want to tuck your purse in your boot, if you know what I mean." Johnny held out a lantern. "Use me lamp if you're worried." He struck a match and lit the flame, before placing the lantern on the dock and stepping back.

  James picked up the lantern and Johnny stepped aside. "I'll make sure your shadow ain't around. Then I'll join ye inside."

  "Any particular draft?"

  "Get the yellow one. The dark one's gone off, give ye the shits now."

  "Good to know."

  Dan awoke with a start. "James never came home." He started pulling his boots on. "I mean, I knew he gave us the slip last night, but I figured he'd come home sometime."

  Fala stood, and Mal sat up on the floor.

  "Maybe he went straight to the library," she said.

  "Maybe, but I have to do something."

  "Slow down. He sent us a message the other day. Maybe he'll do that again."

  "Then you have to wait here for the message. I'll go to the stable and see if he took the pony."

  "Take Mal with you. This place seems pretty safe, and he helps."

  Mal grabbed his bag. "I help."

  Dan plopped his hat on his head, then started for the door while buckling his weapons on.

  "Stop," Fala said.

  Dan turned on his heel. "What?"

  She turned his hat thirty degrees. "You had it on the wrong way. That's all."

  "Um, thanks. Maybe lock the door behind us."

  "I will, and be careful."

  Chapter Ten

  Fala returned to her sewing. She remained in her undergarments, and didn't bother dressing.
The window comforted her to a degree, and she frequently glanced outside. It looked out toward the ships, not the stable. She cursed the builder of the inn, and those who built the stable.

  When her new hem was finished, she pulled the shirt on. She climbed into her pants then tucked the cuffs into her boots. The stupid room didn't have a mirror. The shirt didn't quite meet the pants, but the corset part still functioned. A small bit of flesh showed all the way around.

  She glanced down at her bosom. If these don't bother people, a bit of tummy won't either, she thought.

  The pants had pockets for her derringer, but it was a tight fit for something so bulky. Maybe she could pick up a vest or coat at some point.

  She stared out the window and watched gulls wing over the harbor.

  A knock came at the door. She reached in her pocket for the pistol. "Who is it?"

  "It's us. Let us in," Dan said.

  Fala breathed a sigh of relief then unlocked the door.

  Dan blustered past her, while Mal waited for her to move aside.

  She closed the door behind them, locking it once more. "Well?"

  "We peeked inside the livery, and he ain't been there. Both wagons are right where we left them. Both mules and the pony are still in their stalls."

  "Maybe they got him," she said.

  "Maybe, but why haven't they come for us?"

  "They still might. We know just as much as he does, and they won't want us talking." She turned to Mal. "Mal, honey, can you go get us a pot of coffee, or a pitcher, whatever they have? We need to sit and think."

  Mal nodded then headed for the door. "I help."

  "So that's your plan? Sit around and wait?"

  "I don't have a plan, but maybe we should make one before we do something stupid. We're safer here than the street, and I'd like some coffee."

  "Fine." Dan sat at the table then slammed his hat down on top of it.

  Mal returned, empty handed.

  "What happened?" Fala asked. "Where's the coffee."

  "Man comes. Doesn't trust wog."

  Dan's chair squealed as he turned to face them. "Speaking of that, you do things. Things nobody can do." He wiggled his fingers toward Mal. "Can you figure out where James is, and if he's in trouble?"

  "No."

  "How do you know if you don't try?"

  "No."

  "Don't take your bad attitude out on him," Fala said. "Can you fly over the harbor? How do you know if you don't try? Just jump out that window and flap your arms."

  "Ain't the same thing."

  "But you know you can't. That's my point. Give the man some credit here. He does everything he can."

  Another knock came at the door. Dan placed his pistol in his lap.

  It was the innkeeper. "Your boy said you wanted coffee." He paused at the table.

  Dan knocked his hat to the floor. The innkeeper placed the items on the table then left.

  Fala locked the door behind him, then returned to the table. "Only two cups."

  Mal sat down. "None for bloody wog."

  "I'm sorry some people act that way," Fala said. "You go first, then I'll use the cup when you finish."

  Dan poured himself a cup of coffee. "A white man on your island might be looked at kind of funny too."

  "Be look like supper," Mal said.

  "That's just gross to even joke about," Dan said.

  "Not joking."

  "Stop it you two," Fala said. She poured coffee for Mal then sat down. "We need to think. Perhaps some quiet is helpful for that."

  Mal finished his coffee then passed the cup to Fala. He took up a spot on the floor and silently carved on his yam.

  Dan huffed and turned towards the window. The sounds of the city awakening came through the window.

  Fala sipped her coffee and stared at the table. Hours passed until the song of children selling live mussels came through the window.

  "They've had enough time to pick the rocks and start selling," Dan said. "We'd be emptying the trawl after our first pass. Sometimes we find the motherload of oysters, and other times it's pretty skint. Sometimes we dredge up a crab and one of the boys will take it home for supper."

  Fala absently mumbled, "Mm-hmm."

  "My point is the trawl never comes up empty. There's always something, even if it ain't much. Get your kit together and let's make a trawl." Dan bent down and grabbed his hat.

  "How so?" Fala asked.

  "We do what we've always done. Out on the streets. Eavesdrop on people. Maybe someone saw something last night.

  "Fine. I need a vest or a sash of some kind. This pistol makes an obvious lump in my pocket, and it's kind of uncomfortable. We've been shopping and that's not abnormal for people to see. Better than running from person to person and asking if they've seen our friend."

  Food was barbecued meat on a stick. The local chatter provided nothing to indicate where James had been taken. Anything that might resemble a coat proved to be nautical in fashion. Vests were unheard of in this climate. Fala eventually settled on a greatcoat with rows of buttons down the front. It ended about a foot above the ground.

  The shopkeeper stepped back when she produced the derringer then placed it in a coat pocket.

  "A girl can't be too careful these days," Fala said.

  Dan waited on a bench in front of the shop. He tried to explain the concept of money to Mal. "Five of these big silver ones is the same as one gold one." He slid the coins toward each other. "Same - same. Got it?"

  Mal nodded slowly.

  "Alright then." Dan placed a pile of tiny silver coins on the bench then started counting them out. "Ten of these pennies is the same as a big silver coin."

  Mal held up all of his fingers. "This is this," he pointed to the larger coin.

  "Good. Make sense?"

  "No. Trade pigs for wife makes sense."

  "Ugh!"

  Fala exited the shop and twirled. "What do you think?"

  "Good choice for when we go to Saphelon. Gets cold up there," Dan said. He looked between his boots. "If we get there... What are we going to do if James never shows up?"

  Fala sat beside him on the bench and whispered. "We have a bunch of gold and a caravan. We could go anywhere we like. We also have access to ships. Maybe we leave completely."

  "You can. I still need to do for my sister. Got no ideas about starting a war, but I have to try."

  "Maybe there's enough money to pay mercenaries to rescue her."

  "Now there's a decent thought. Could work, and if they get killed at least it ain't us."

  "Told you I needed to think. Maybe something better will come to me."

  Dan stood and offered her a hand. "I want to grab a beer. Getting hot out here. Then I want to check the stables again before dark."

  They sipped their beer in silence, while Mal counted out the pennies for the barmaid. When they went back outside, the shadows were long, and the rooftops were awash in the pink sunset.

  It was dark when they got near the stable. Lamplighters scurried about to illuminate the walks. From the street they could still see the animals in their stalls, and the wagons where they parked them.

  Dan shuffled inside to see if the monsters knew anything more. James and another man stepped out of the shadows.

  "Where have you been?" Dan asked.

  "Fill you in later. This is Johnny, he's going to be helping us. Get our things from the inn, we're leaving. Right now."

  Dan paused to let things sink in, then paced quickly away. Fala followed at his heels. Mal stayed behind.

  "I'm glad to get moving, but he could have sent message," Dan said.

  "Maybe he couldn't. Those assassins might have made things tough," Fala said.

  "Keep them in mind. We haven't left yet. I'll carry the chest. Can you get the rest?"

  "No problem."

  Dan flew up the stairs at the inn. He made a quick tour of the room to look for anything else he might need before scooping up the trunk.

  Fala grabbed the
dress, the cloth from her old dress, and the sewing materials. She left a handful of coins on the dresser for the maid.

  "Kind of a lot, ain't it?" Dan asked.

  "Any woman can use the extra coin, and we have enough. Let's go."

  They dropped the key on the bar as they passed, then hustled outside.

  They only paused long enough for Dan to shift the weight of the trunk higher against his chest.

  James and Johnny were in the process of hitching up the animals. Dan headed for the wagon to store the trunk.

  A shadowy figure stepped from a dark corner. "All in one place. Makes it handy, really." He waggled a finger at someone, and three more men stepped into the livery. All of them wore black cloaks and gear. "The Earl wants a word with you. In Grandelor."

  "We aren't able to attend at this time. Give him our condolences," James said.

  "Hoping you'd say that. See, he left instructions that say dead or alive." The man reached for his pistol.

  Johnny fired the first shot, and clipped the man in his forearm.

  Dan dropped the trunk then drew his own pistol, firing at one of the other assassins. He missed.

  Fala and Mal ran for the wagon.

  More assassins entered the livery, and these held muskets. They formed a double line with five kneeling in front, and four standing behind. They took aim.

  James shot another of their assailants, but preserved his second round. He drew his cutlass and charged another lone aggressor.

  Dan crossed swords with yet another assailant.

  The line of musketeers drew back the hammers on their weapons. Dan flinched at the sound.

  A blinding flash filled the stable, and smoke belched forth from the caravan. The phalanx of musketeers flew through the air in assorted pieces.

  Mal stood behind the swivel gun mounted to the top of the caravan. "I help."

  More assassins entered the livery, but were immediately swarmed by root monsters. The screams of those men added to the din as they went down under the drain of multiple stab wounds, cuts, and bites.

  Dan kept distance between he and his opponent. Length is my advantage, length is my advantage. He took a chance and parried the other man's cutlass, lunged, and buried his saber in the man's chest. He used his off hand to make sure the cutlass didn't swipe back in revenge. He kicked the man off his blade then moved to help the root monsters.