Praji said, “If you close it, with you not being well known, that’ll make people curious. If you open it, you can figure that within an hour of sunset this place will be crawling with whores, thieves, pickpockets, beggars, and a bunch of spies for different clans, guilds, factions, and other companies.”
Nicholas said, “Amos, what do you think?”
Amos shrugged. “It’s been my experience in places like this that you can either go out and look for information or wait and let it come to you.”
Nicholas nodded. “Let’s open up the commons, but I want it made clear that any man who drinks too much and says the wrong thing is going to answer to me.” He tried to sound menacing, but felt foolish. Still, no one at the table smiled at the remark.
Looking at Praji, Nicholas asked, “Why would other companies come snooping around?”
Praji says, “Maybe you’ve a contract they can poach. If you’re onto something big, then maybe they can cut a better deal with your contract holder; maybe they’re going out on a job that needs a bigger company and they’re looking for another small company or two to join forces with.” Praji fixed Nicholas with a steady gaze. “You don’t need to tell me what you’re here for, as long as we’re getting paid and you don’t get us hung for something I didn’t have anything to do with, but for a company of mercenaries you’re looking pretty raw.” He hiked a thumb toward Ghuda. “He looks like he knows his way around, but the others”—he glanced over his shoulder to where a pair of sailors from Amos’s ship were entering the commons—“they’re somethin’ else. From the way they jump to when they get orders, and keep to themselves and never get into serious arguments or fights, regular army is my guess.”
Nicholas said, “You’re no fool.”
“Never said I was. I just let people guess what they will, and usually it’s to my advantage.” Gesturing to where the bulk of the men were making ready their quarters, he added, “Those boys are probably good soldiers, but as mercenaries they don’t look convincing. Now, Ghuda’s a convincing mercenary.”
Praji looked Nicholas in the eyes. “There are three types of captains: the first are mean bastards who’ll scare their men into doing what they tell them to; the second are the kind that make their men rich; the third are the kind that men follow anywhere, because their captain keeps them alive. You don’t look convincing being the first; sorry, but you couldn’t scare my old granny. You’re not throwing gold around and wearing jewels on your fingers, so no one will think you’re making your men rich—so you better work on convincing anyone who asks that you’re the third kind.”
Nicholas said, “I’ve studied tactics and strategy all my life, Praji, and I’ve led men into combat.” He didn’t add that his experience began only a few days before meeting Praji.
Standing up, Praji said, “You talk a good fight. When you want to tell me what’s going on, I’ll tell you if Vaja and I want in. Until then I’m going to get some sleep.”
After he was gone, Nicholas said, “Can we trust him?”
Ghuda said, “Well, he’s not the type to swear undying loyalty to the crown, but he’ll fight for whoever holds his bond, or,” he added with a grin, “against whoever ends up on his ‘list.’ I think he’s what he seems to be.”
Marcus said, “What next?”
“We need to find out where the prisoners were taken. With that many prisoners being offloaded here, someone had to see where they’ve gone. We just need to be careful in how we ask.”
Amos said, “I think I should nose around down at the docks.”
“Take Marcus with you, and start looking for a ship to steal.”
Amos grinned. “We’re pirates again?”
Nicholas returned the smile. “As soon as we find out where Margaret, Abigail, and the others are, we’re buccaneers.”
Amos and Marcus left, and Nicholas said, “Ghuda, can you make the men look more like mercenaries?”
Ghuda stood up as Harry and Brisa walked into the commons. As they approached the table, Ghuda said, “I’ll talk to all of them in twos and threes and give them some idea of what to expect and how to act.”
“Thanks,” said Nicholas as he left.
Harry and Brisa sat down and he said, “All right, what do we do now?”
Nicholas said, “Well, first thing, I’ve got to figure out what to do with the Ranjana.”
Brisa said, “Sell her to someone.” From her cheerful smile, Nicholas was almost sure she was joking.
Harry said, “Why not hang on to her for a while and see if we need to get into the palace?”
“I don’t understand,” said Nicholas.
“Look,” said Harry, “it’s hard for me to imagine that a ship like that could come sailing into this harbor with a couple of hundred captives and not involve some official notice. Maybe this Overlord’s in on this thing himself.” He shrugged. “If he is, what better way to get in to see him than to bring him his wife-to-be?”
“But he tried to kill her,” Nicholas pointed out.
Brisa said, “That was out there.” She waved in the general direction of the north. “He can’t very well kill her in the palace and blame it on the clans, can he?”
Harry nodded. “The palace is the safest place for her in the city.” He leaned forward. “Look, hang on to her for a couple of days, and if we don’t need to go to the palace, you can pack her off back to her father on the next river caravan heading north. If you do need to get in, she’s your entrance.”
“Seems pretty indifferent to the girl,” said Nicholas.
Brisa snorted. “Girl? That bitch has a hide tough as a turtle’s shell. Never mind the big eyes and pouty mouth, Nicky, she’d cut your heart out and smile while doing it. She may look like someone’s spoiled darling, but there’s a toughness in her you surely can see, given you hardly look at her above the neck.”
Nicholas’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute!”
Brisa waved the objection away. “She’s a beauty, I know, but she’s not what she seems.”
Harry nodded. “I’ve talked to her and there’s something…cold about her.”
Nicholas decided to ignore Brisa’s accusation. “Well, I won’t decide anything today. Why don’t you start snooping around. Brisa, you know your way around streets like these, and Harry, you can scrounge a bit.” He took some gold out of his purse and pushed it across the table toward him. “Buy anything you think we might need—and take Anthony with you to replenish his supplies.” He looked around. “Speaking of which, where is he, and where is Nakor?”
Harry said, “I saw Anthony in one of the back rooms looking over Vaja’s wound. I haven’t seen Nakor since we got here.”
Nicholas waved them off and sat alone with his own thoughts for a while. Calis appeared and sat down unbidden, saying, “You look troubled.”
Glancing around the room, Nicholas said, “Let’s go for a stroll.”
They rose and left the common room, entering, the short street that led directly to the bazaar.
The bazaar was a giant square, divided by an open roadway running north and south, and by another running east and west. At the intersection a large plaza had been built, and on the steps of that plaza an assortment of beggars, fortune-tellers, and entertainers clustered. The road leading from Keeler’s hostel entered the bazaar from the south. There were a half-dozen roads entering from all sides, save the east, which fronted on a wall that marked the outer boundary of the Overlord’s palace.
Entering the press of humanity that thronged the bazaar, they passed by stalls erected for the day and listened to the calls to examine pottery, jewelry, sweets, cloth, and every other imaginable commodity. Calis said nothing as Nicholas made a pretense of examining some of the weapons that were being offered by a one-legged man. As they pushed past a fruit seller’s cart, Nicholas said, “I’m feeling…out of place.”
Calis nodded. “I understand.”
“Do you?” asked Nicholas, looking at the half-elf.
“I’m
a little older than your older brothers, yet I look your age,” said Calis. “Yet, to my people, I’m little more than a child.” He glanced around the bazaar. “All this is alien to me. I’ve visited Crydee many times in my life, and save for when your uncle Martin and Garret or the occasional ranger from Natal visited Elvandar, I’ve never spoken to a human for more than one or two evenings at a time.
“Yes, I know what it is to feel out of place.” Then he gave Nicholas a rare smile and said, “But that’s not what you’re talking about, is it?”
Nicholas shook his head. “No. I feel like an impostor pretending to be Captain to a company of mercenaries.”
Calis shrugged. “You shouldn’t. At least, I don’t think you should. The others have accepted your leadership and so far you’ve done nothing to show their judgment is wrong.”
He paused as they moved aside to let a wagon full of slaves drive past. Nicholas scanned the faces of those in the wagon on the off chance he might recognize someone. The slaves kept their eyes down and their expressions placid, as if they knew their lives were forever under the control of others.
Nicholas watched after the wagon a moment, then said, “Thank you. I guess that if I play the part well enough, it’s of little consequence how I feel about it.”
Calis smiled slightly. “You’re a great deal like your uncle Martin; he ponders things. It’s ironic, but you’re probably more like him in many regards than Marcus.”
Nicholas smiled slightly. “That would be ironic.”
They spent a half hour wandering through the bazaar, dazzled by the astonishing assortment of merchandise offered, until they found themselves near the plaza at the center. There they were assailed by beggars asking for gifts in exchange for blessings, and curses followed after them when they turned a deaf ear. Fortune-tellers offered to read their future in cards, bones, or smoke, and they, too, were ignored.
As they circled the plaza, they came to another quarter of the bazaar that was drawing a large crowd. They worked their way through the crowd to find a large platform erected halfway between the plaza and the wall of the Overlord’s palace. The crowd spread out to about a dozen yards from the wall, then left a clearing. Glancing up, Nicholas saw cages hanging from the wall. In the cages were bodies, a pair of skeletons, and one man who moved feebly. Calis followed his gaze and said, “Death by exposure is the local choice, I see.”
“And a clear message to everyone in the city: don’t cause trouble,” said Nicholas. He turned his back and looked at those upon the platform.
An auctioneer was offering slaves for inspection. Nicholas glanced from face to face, half hoping, half fearing to see someone he recognized from Crydee, but after a few minutes he decided these wretches were natives of the city. A few young girls brought spirited bidding, as did one particularly strong-looking man of middle years, but the rest of the slaves were either too old or too young to be of profit.
Disgusted with the entire proceedings, Nicholas said, “Come along. Let’s return to the hostel.”
They made their way back to the north side of the bazaar, and halfway to the hostel, they saw people clearing the way for an advancing company of men. A boy beat a drum at the van, while behind him marched a man carrying a pole. Upon the top of the pole two ropes descended to the ends of a rod, from which hung a banner, a long piece of grey cloth on which a red hawk stooping over its prey was sewn. Nicholas and Calis stepped aside to allow them to pass and watched as two hundred armed men strode by. As they moved away, Nicholas turned to a man following after them and said, “Who was that?”
“Captain Haji’s Redhawks.” The man looked at Nicholas as if he was crazy to have asked, and hurried along.
Nicholas said, “I guess Tuka wasn’t exaggerating about the need to announce ourselves.”
“Perhaps,” said Calis, “when we know what it is we wish to have known about us.”
“Good point.”
They returned to the hostel and found that Marcus and Amos had returned. Nicholas sat at the table with them, while Calis went to his room. “That was quick,” said Nicholas. “Did you find a ship?”
Amos lowered his voice, so Keeler, who was tending bar, couldn’t overhear. “There are any number of ships that will do, now we know how long the voyage takes, but there are two Kingdom ships in the harbor.”
“What?” said Nicholas.
Marcus said, “And one of them is the Raptor.”
—
NICHOLAS STOOD ON the end of the quay and stared in open-mouthed amazement.
Amos said, “Close it, or you’ll start to catch flies.”
“How is this possible?”
Amos said, “Look closely. She’s not really how we turned her out. There are some slight differences. And I’d never rig her quite that loose, even at anchor. Sudden wind, and you’ll lose a spar. And some of the shrouds and sheets are not right. She’s a copy of the Royal Eagle, and someone’s tried to turn her into the Raptor.” He then pointed to the other ship, slightly smaller, but otherwise the twin of the first. “That’s either an exact copy of the Royal Gull, or the real one.”
“I thought the real one sank off the Keshian coast in a storm two years ago,” said Nicholas.
“That’s what I thought, but maybe not.”
Nicholas nodded. “That still doesn’t answer the big question.”
Amos said, “Yes. Why are they here?”
The three of them said nothing more as they walked back to the hostel.
—
BACK THERE, NICHOLAS asked several of the men if they had seen Nakor. All of them answered no; the little man had vanished shortly after the company had arrived.
Nicholas decided to return to the room he had secured for himself, to rest awhile and ponder the mystery of those two ships in the harbor. As he passed the door to the Ranjana’s quarters, a shriek caused him to halt.
As he reached for the door, it opened and a frightened maid said, “Master. Please.”
Nicholas entered the room to find the other three maids all cowering in the corner while the Ranjana picked up a brush from the table she used as a vanity and threw it at them. “I will not stay here a minute longer!” she shouted.
Nicholas said, “Lady—”
Before another word could come out of his mouth, he was ducking a wicked-looking hair comb, three tines of gold, but sharp enough to cause harm. He stepped forward and grabbed the girl by one wrist, which proved a tactical mistake, as he then felt her other hand hard across his face. Grabbing the free hand, he shouted, “Stop this, lady!”
She began kicking him in the shins, and he shoved her away with enough force to cause her to sit hard on the floor. Pointing his finger at her, he said, “That will be enough!”
She was up and at him again, and he pushed her back hard on the floor. The second time she hit the hardwood, her eyes widened in astonishment. “You dare lay hands upon me!”
“I’ll do more than that if you don’t tell me what this ruckus is about,” said Nicholas, his voice harsh.
“I demand to be taken at once to the palace,” said the Ranjana. “I spoke to one of your men, and he had the temerity to tell me to wait until you’d returned.” She stood up. “I want him hung. Now, take me to the palace.”
“There’s a problem with that,” said Nicholas.
“Problem!” shrieked the girl. She formed claws with her fingernails and came at Nicholas. He grabbed her wrists again and said, “Will you stop!” The girl continued to struggle, clearly intent on removing his eyes from his head. At last he pushed her back even harder than before, so that when she hit the floor she slid backward until she struck the wall.
Before she could move, he advanced to stand over her. “Don’t get up!” he warned. “Just sit there and listen, or I will have you tied up!”
She sat, but her expression was defiant. “Why won’t you take me to the palace?”
Nicholas sighed. “I was hoping to avoid this, but I guess you must know. I’m not taking yo
u to the palace because it appears that the man responsible for the attack upon you was the Overlord himself.”
“That’s impossible. I am to wed the Overlord on the next Summer’s End Night.”
Nicholas saw that the fight had gone out of her, and leaned over to offer his hand. She slapped it away and stood up without help. As he watched her stand with a dancer’s grace, Nicholas was forced to admit that Brisa wasn’t entirely wrong. Given her choice of fashion, skimpy tops and light skirts, leaving her midriff bare, her body was displayed to good advantage, and it was an exceptionally nice body. But her mood was as ugly as the rest of her was lovely. “You’re lying,” she said. “You want to hold me for ransom.”
Nicholas sighed. “If that were true, I’d simply lock the door and put a guard outside your window. No, if we discover that the Overlord is the man who tried to have you killed, we’ll arrange for you to travel back to your father—”
“No,” interrupted the Ranjana. There was genuine panic in her voice.
“No?”
“No. My father would kill me.”
Nicholas said, “Why would he do that?”
“My father the Raj has thirty-nine wives. I am the youngest daughter of his seventeenth wife.” She lowered her eyes and said, “My only value to him is to be married to an ally. If I return, he will be enraged and order me beheaded. I would be of no further value, for to send me to another ally for marriage after offering me to the Overlord would be an insult.”
“Well, maybe the Overlord didn’t have anything to do with the attack, and if not, we’ll get you to the palace.”
Nicholas was confused by all this, for the girl suddenly looked vulnerable and afraid, and his feelings were churning unexpectedly. Feeling irritation at this sudden attack of concern, he said, “I’ll do what I can.” He turned and quickly left the room. Finding himself in the hall with no idea what he had been doing before he had entered the girl’s room, he returned to the common room to wait for Harry and Brisa.
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