The Red wolf conspiracy tcv-1

by Robert V. S. Redick

  "Four hundred steerage, Mistress-and a score first-class, plus servants. And your noble family, of course."

  "Half of them male… and a hundred marines… that's over nine hundred men! Well, that's simple!" She laughed aloud. "All I have to do is check nine hundred wrists before tomorrow morning! Don't ask, I won't explain! Just tell me: what have they done with Pazel Pathkendle?"

  The boy jumped, but said nothing. He looked disturbed in an entirely new way.

  "You know who I mean," said Thasha. "The Ormali. The one who got flogged for being rude to my father. Who flogged him, anyway-that big baboon they call Jervik? I'll bet he volunteered."

  Neeps fidgeted, glanced at the door.

  "Are they going to throw him off the ship at Uturphe?"

  "I can't tell you, m'lady," he said.

  "Why not?" Thasha pressed. "I'm his friend, you know. Maybe his only friend."

  Now anger sparked in Neeps' glance. "We tarboys take care of our own," he said.

  "Splendid! Tell me, then: what's the punishment for insulting an ambassador?"

  "Whatever the captain wants."

  "What does Rose usually do?"

  "Sometimes one thing, sometimes another."

  "Can you"-she took a careful breath-"at least tell me where they're keeping him?"

  "No."

  They stood there, eye to eye. Jorl wheezed and flopped on his chin. Then Thasha put her hands to the back of her neck, beneath her golden hair. After a moment she frowned.

  "Help me," she said curtly, turning her back and lifting the hair aside.

  "M-m'lady?"

  "The clasp on my necklace. It's stuck."

  Neeps stared at her. She looked back steadily over her shoulder, daring him to say another word. Neeps wiped his hands on his pants, then reached into the golden hair as one might a nest of spiders. He made a face. She sighed and crossed her arms. He struggled with the clasp.

  "Really, N-Neeps, it's not that-Ouch!"

  "Augh!" screamed Neeps, as they both flinched. The necklace dropped to the floor.

  "What did you do, imbecile?" cried Thasha, holding her neck.

  Neeps scooped up the chain. "It wasn't me, Lady Thasha! It was a spark-a ferrous spark. Got me, too! Must be iron in this necklace somewhere."

  "Don't be daft, it's pure silver! Let me see if it's harmed."

  Neeps held out the necklace, but she made no move to take it from him. The tiny sea-creatures gleamed in the lamplight.

  "Well, it's fine, anyway," she declared. "And pretty, no?"

  "It's beautiful, m'lady."

  "Too bad you tried to steal it."

  "What?"

  Neeps dropped the necklace again. Thasha caught it and draped it over a chair. "I'd taken it off to bathe, see? You slipped it into your pocket, but I noticed the bulge as you were turning to go. How do you suppose the captain punishes stealing from an ambassador's cabin?"

  "You're a blary damn pigsty liar… m'lady!" sputtered Neeps, trembling with rage.

  Thasha sighed. "Of course you would say that. And perhaps the officers will take your word over mine. Well, go on, back to your duties, N-Neeps. I think I'll eat in the dining room after all-now that I have something to talk about."

  She was extremely proud of herself: a nicer piece of blackmail one could hardly ask for. But to her astonishment Neeps gritted his teeth and stepped toward her, only stopping when Suzyt growled.

  "No, they won't believe an Outer Isles tarboy over a daisy-sweet bit of wife cargo like you. They'll clap me in jail, is what. And then make me work off twenty times that trinket's worth-and brand my arm. That's standard punishment for first-time thieves. Let 'em. Do your worst. But I'll not help you land Pazel any deeper in trouble. We-you've done enough to him already!"

  Three steps and he was out, with a smart slam of the door. For a moment Thasha stood rooted to the spot. He was calling her bluff! Then she realized that if Neeps disappeared he would be no easier to find on the enormous ship than Pazel himself.

  A moment later she was through the door, running with her boots unlaced. Neeps was thumping down the stern stairway. "Wait, wait!" she cried, tumbling after him, but he only ran faster-down and down, across the berth deck to the opposite stair and down again.

  Just above the mercy deck he abruptly turned, blocking her way. It was dark: they were deeper in the ship than she had ever set foot. She smelled animals and hay.

  "You really are his friend, aren't you?" she said.

  "That's right," said Neeps, more winded than Thasha herself.

  "I didn't know. I thought everyone hated him for being Ormali."

  "Only dumb louts hate him. The rest are afraid of him because of what happened with the augrongs, and because a few blary idlers say they heard him speaking devil-tongue."

  "Why aren't you afraid?"

  Neeps just looked away. Thasha realized she already knew: this shrimp wasn't afraid of anything. Be careful, shrimp, she thought. Someone may try to cut off your head.

  "What makes you so curious about Pazel?" Neeps asked.

  "I don't know," she said. "Honestly I don't. But he seems special, smart maybe, also a fool like you, of course-Oh, that's not what I mean! I mean you're right. His trouble started with us, when Prahba tried to talk to him about the Rescue of Ormael. Or the"-she struggled with the word-"invasion, if that's what you like to call it. So at the very least I owe him some help. I want to get him out of the mess we got him into."

  "Well, you can't," said Neeps. "All you can do is make things worse. There was a collection for him among the tarboys-eight gold, enough for a third-class ticket, maybe. If he's lucky he'll ship out on the next boat, get into the lawless territories of the Nelu Rekere."

  "Can he sign on with another ship, out there?"

  Neeps shook his head. "The Sailing Code isn't enforced in the Rekere, but most decent ships end up back in the Quiet Sea sooner or later. His name would be checked against the registry in any big port. As soon as they found out what Chathrand dismissed him for, he'd be charged with misleading his captain."

  "Then what can he do?"

  "Go out in a small fishing boat, one that doesn't stray far from its home port. Or work the docks."

  Thasha couldn't believe her ears. "A docker or a fisherman? For the rest of his life?"

  "Or a pirate. Lots of demand for pirates. Always getting killed, you see."

  "This is terrible!"

  "'Course, he might try going inland from Uturphe. Folks say there's work in Torabog, cutting cane."

  "You're lying!" Thasha cried. "It can't be that bad!"

  "You call me a liar? After that little game in your cabin?"

  "That was just to make you tell me where he was!"

  Neeps stepped closer, and she knew he could see her tears. His voice was gentler, if only slightly. "Suppose I did tell you," he said. "What good would it do? How could you possibly help him now?"

  "By hiring him," said Thasha simply.

  "Hiring him? Are you cracked? What do you imagine he'd do-sew you a blary wedding dress?"

  "I can't tell you what I'd hire him for. It's a secret."

  "You're marrying a Sizzy prince. He'll have ten girls just handlin' your laundry. Pazel wouldn't know the word for 'sock.'"

  "Yes he would!" she said, her voice rising in desperation. "Oh, sky! Can't you just take me to him?"

  "I'm right here, Thasha."

  Pazel stepped around the bend in the stairs and put a hand on Neeps' shoulder. "Thanks, mate," he said.

  "Be careful with this one," growled Neeps. "She's a trickster. She wants to get me jailed as a thief."

  "I wouldn't really have done it!"

  "We can't stay here long," said Pazel. "Thasha, what's this secret you want to share? Anything you can tell me, you can tell Neeps."

  "I have two," said Thasha. "But you have to swear not to betray me."

  Neeps scoffed, but Pazel said: "We'll swear if you like. We're not tattlers."

  After she had their pr
omises, Thasha told them about Hercуl and the mysterious attacker. As she expected, neither boy had heard of the events: Fiffengurt's rumor-control efforts had so far succeeded.

  "A murderer aboard," said Neeps. "That's marvelous. He shouldn't be too hard to spot, though, if his wrist is in such bad shape. All we have to do is find out who's been let off work."

  "How?" said Pazel. "Mr. Uskins keeps track of that sort of thing, and Rin knows he won't tell us. We could ask Dr. Rain who he's treated, but I doubt that whoever attacked Hercуl will be looking for treatment in sickbay."

  Neeps sighed. "You're right, I suppose. But you had another secret to share, Thasha. What is it?"

  Thasha took a deep breath. She said, "I'm not marrying that prince. Not for Prahba or Arqual or peace or anything. Hercуl was going to get me out of it, somehow. If he dies-"

  Her sobs broke out in earnest. The boys looked at each other. One did not simply hug an ambassador's daughter, did one? At last, awkwardly, they gripped her by the elbows, as if propping up a rickety ladder. They could not tell if she was comforted or annoyed.

  Eventually she pulled out a red handkerchief, blew her nose and continued, "If Hercуl dies I'll find a way out myself. I'll have Ramachni spirit me away or turn me into a skunk. Or I'll just run off. I have enough gold to sail twice around the world."

  "They'll send a fleet after you," said Pazel.

  "Two fleets," Neeps put in. "One Sizzy, one Arquali. But who's this Ramachni?"

  "Then I'll jump ship before we're anywhere near Simja," Thasha went on, ignoring Neeps. "Right here in Uturphe. With you, Pazel! And I'll buy us both passage to somewhere far away, in the Crown-less Lands or Outer Isles. That's what I want to hire you for, see? To be my guide."

  In the silence that followed they heard cows munching placidly in their stalls.

  Neeps was the first one to speak. "I knew it, mate, she's cracked."

  "Entirely," said Pazel. "I've never even seen the Outer Isles. And what will your father say if you disappear?"

  "Whatever he likes," said Thasha with sudden anger. "He sent me to the Lorg! I blamed Syrarys for years, but it was him. He needed a daughter fit to marry a prince, and that's what the Sisters were training me for. You're right, Neeps: I'm just cargo to these people."

  "One of these people is the Emperor," said Pazel. "Do you think he'll let you slip away?"

  "Not easily. That's why I need your help."

  "His help!" laughed Neeps. "I like that! Not enough that you've ended his sailing career. You want him to be a fugitive. With His Supremacy's men and the Black Rags combing the seas for him."

  "You make everything sound so rotten," said Thasha.

  "Listen, half-wit, it's rotten whatever I say. When they catch you, they'll make you marry a Sizzy. But what do you think they'll do to Pazel? He talks back to your dad and gets whipped like a slave. If he helps you run away-"

  "They'll kill me," said Pazel quietly.

  Thasha sat on a step. She covered her face with her hands, but this time she didn't cry. After a moment she looked up at them. "You're right," she said. "I have to do this alone. They'd kill Hercуl, too, if he tried to help me. I'm that important, somehow. Peace is coming, and this made-up marriage is the guarantee."

  "But they don't want peace," whispered Pazel. "They want war." The others looked at him, stunned.

  "Who wants war?" blurted Neeps.

  "Be quiet, you donkey!" Pazel seized his arm. "I don't know who!"

  "Well where in the brimstone Pits did you get that idea?"

  "I can't tell you. But it's true, Thasha: all this peacemaking is a sham. Ramachni told us there was an evil mage hidden aboard."

  "Who's Ramachni?" said Neeps, stamping his foot.

  "He didn't say the mage had anything to do with me," said Thasha. "Or with this Treaty Bride business."

  "What else could be so important about this voyage?" Pazel went on. "And don't you see, Thasha? If someone is trying to start a war, breaking off the marriage will play right into their hands."

  "I don't see, and I don't care," said Thasha. "Let them hand over someone else to the Sizzies!"

  "Right for once," said Neeps. "I don't know the half of this-but Pazel, you're not making sense. If some fools wanted a new war with the Black Rags, they could find easier ways to start it."

  No one spoke for a moment. Pazel was thinking of Chadfallow's words, ten years ago at his mother's table. Lies, Suthinia. We are adrjft without charts in a sea of lies. And what else? One lie can doom the world. One fearless soul can save it.

  "Thasha," he said, "who else knows you plan to run off?"

  "Nobody else."

  "Just think, then," said Pazel. "There's never been a marriage between Sizzies and Arqualis. But there's also been no war for forty years."

  "So?"

  "So what if the marriage itself is supposed to start the war?"

  "Oh, rubbish!" said Thasha. "This whole business has been planned for decades. First the fighting stopped, then the name-calling. Then a few important men on both sides, men like Dr. Chadfallow, met and talked. Now a Mzithrini prince takes a… a-"

  "A gift basket," said Pazel. "Tied up in bows."

  She gave him a look to curdle milk. "A daughter of an enemy soldier, that's all that matters. And when I've lived seven years in Babqri City, the Mzithrin priests are supposed to pronounce me acceptable, or noncontagious, or at the very least human, and that will mean Arqual itself is no longer the enemy of the Old Faith. And then we all become friends."

  "Very pretty," said Neeps.

  "Foolishness and rot," said Thasha. "But it's supposed to prevent a war, not start one. Pazel, you're not being fair. I've told you my secrets, and you've told me nothing but your crazy guesses. If this wedding is really a sham, don't you think I have the right to know?"

  "She's got a point, mate," said Neeps. "Trust and trust alike."

  They waited, but Pazel just shook his head. "If I could explain," he said, "you'd understand why I can't."

  "That's the maddest thing yet," said Neeps. "Rin help us if-oy! You there!"

  The others turned. Seated primly on the stairs above them was Sniraga, Lady Oggosk's cat. The red animal looked at them serenely, like someone enjoying a bit of light theater from a balcony.

  "Sniraga!" said Pazel. "Why's she always popping up?"

  "That cat gives me the chills," said Thasha.

  "She stole a pickle from the galley this morning," said Neeps.

  "She stole my leek fritter in Sorrophran," Pazel growled. "Go on, thief, away with you!"

  The cat turned Pazel an indifferent look. Then she bent her head and lifted something coiled and shiny from the deck.

  "My necklace!" Thasha cried, aghast. "How did she get it? I must have left the door open!"

  With the silver chain in her teeth, Sniraga stood and stretched. Then, before anyone could move, she sprang up the stairs and vanished.

  "Oh, catch her, catch her!" Thasha shouted. "Prahba will murder me!"

  They raced after the cat, but Sniraga was already gone from sight. At the berth deck they divided: Thasha kept climbing, muttering oaths, and the boys rushed in among the sailors. The cat, the cat! they begged. Had anyone seen it? No one had. But when they reached the tarboys' quarters Reyast waved them down.

  "T-T-T-Teggatz is fit to k-k-kill you, Neeps!"

  "Blow me down!" said Neeps. "I've been gone half an hour!"

  "M-m-m-more."

  "And I'm late for cow-and-pig duty," said Pazel. "Thasha will have to manage alone."

  "She'll manage," said Neeps. "Stay out of trouble, mate."

  Neeps rushed back to his post. Pazel returned to the manger and spent the next two hours mucking it out, and feeding the goats and cattle. Then the dairy cow needed milking, and a goat kicked over a five-gallon pail of fresh water, forcing Pazel to haul another from the deck below. When his labor was done at last, Pazel sat in the hay beside the cow and leaned into her warm flank.

  He had about t
en minutes before Fiffengurt locked him up in the brig for the night. He stank of manure and piss. It was the smell as much as the thought of iron bars that reminded him: Steldak.

  His own troubles had made him forget Rose's prisoner for days. Now he felt selfish, ashamed. Someone had to help that man.

  Summoning all his courage, he whispered: "Are you listening?"

  The cow looked at him dreamily. Pazel waited, holding his breath. There was no sound but the slice of the ship through the waves, loud here at the waterline.

  Diadrelu had said they would speak again once the Chathrand left Etherhorde, but she had never come. And sometime tomorrow he would be tossed ashore. If he told Neeps or Thasha about the ixchel they might be murdered in their sleep. If he didn't, Steldak would rot away in that cage until he died.

  "Can you hear me?" he whispered again. "Come soon, Diadrelu. Please."

  "Kit-kit-kit! Kitty-cat! Come out, you sly, stinking cheat!"

  Around Thasha, sailors stifled laughs. None had seen the red cat, so sorry m'lady, and Thasha realized the chase was futile. Better to get back to the stateroom before things got any worse.

  She made a quick dash across the main deck. Her door was ajar. Slipping inside, she kicked off her shoes and coat and ran straight to her cabin.

  Hercуl looked worse. Under Dr. Rain's tight bandages his leg was swollen like a fatty sausage. A low wheezing came from his throat.

  Thasha fought down panic. Hercуl's dying. Ramachni's out of reach. Pazel's being thrown off the ship. She could not remember ever feeling so trapped. Who was she, to imagine she could escape the clutches of two empires? She couldn't even escape from the Lorg.

  Her misery was cut short by the sound of a key in the stateroom door. Thasha left her cabin just as her father opened the outer door.

  "How is he?" Isiq asked at once.

  "Not good."

  Eberzam crossed the room, peered in at Hercуl and shook his head. Thasha pulled her collar high around her neck, praying he wouldn't notice the missing necklace.

  "Prahba," she said, "who's in charge of catching the attacker?"

  "That would be Commander Nagan," said Isiq.

  "Good old Nagan," she said, with less-than-perfect conviction. "Where's he been lately?"

  "He sailed ahead to be sure all was safe in our next port of call. But he is back aboard now. A fine soldier, that one. By the way, Syrarys has been asking for you."