by Guy Antibes
“We use Commander Ilsur’s men, but they are kept in the dark until we move out.”
“How many are directly under your command?” Banna asked.
“Five. Six, including me. I must submit a written request to Ilsur before we attack,” Nakara said. “Most of the time we observe and identify the spies.”
“Are they all Vaarekian?” Banna asked.
“No. Most of them are nomads, as it turns out. I would guess there aren’t any more Vaarekians in their group than there are Lashakans in ours. You may return to your ship. I will send a message where to meet after nightfall.”
Nakara stood and showed them to the door, but they had to find their own way out of the constabulary.
Sam thought about the meeting with the Lashakan on the walk back to the ship. “Wollia isn’t exactly united, is it?” he said to Banna.
“Plus, they have their precious factions mixing things up even more. I thought it interesting that Mito Nakara didn’t call himself a Wollian. It was Lashakan and Wollia working together. Most other factions exclude the Lashakans, I would wager. Perhaps a discussion with Desmon Sandal might improve our chances of surviving this.”
Sam sought out Desmon, who sat with other sailors in the crew’s mess.
“Do you know Mito Nakara?” Sam asked.
The Wollian looked around. “I’ll meet you on deck in a few minutes.”
Sam didn’t have to wait long before Desmon appeared at the crew’s hatch.
“You shouldn’t have mentioned Nakara’s name.”
“So you do know him?” Sam said.
Desmon tried to look casual as he looked around to make sure they were out of anyone’s hearing. “He is one of my brother-in-law’s creatures. Why do you ask?”
“Banna and I are working for Tandar with Nakara being our direct contact. He wants us to go on a raid tonight. Everyone seems to know exactly who Banna is, so we really didn’t have much choice.”
Desmon pursed his lips. “I can’t say you are doing the wrong thing, even though Pamon and I aren’t on the best of terms.”
“You are in the same faction, aren’t you?”
“I’m afraid to say, factions within factions. Pamon and I aren’t on totally opposite sides, but our views could be more aligned,” Desmon said. “Did he give you any information you can share?”
Sam thought for a bit. “The Vaarekians enlist more nomads in their cause than Wollians and Lashakans, as Nakara put it.”
“Some Lashakans would call Nakara a traitor, but his prejudices remain. Nomads, like Asul Kindra, the dead sailor?”
“Could he have been a Vaarekian agent?” Sam asked.
“Anything is possible, but why send a Polistian to kill him?” Desmon said.
“A turncoat?”
Desmon looked away from Sam for a bit. “That is probably closer to the truth than anything. Tell me what you can. Nakara is someone you don’t have to worry about stabbing you in the back, but I wouldn’t fully trust him.”
“Does anyone in Wollia merit trust?”
Desmon smiled. “Probably not. At least I know what side you and Banna are not on, and that is Viktar Kreb’s.”
“Only because I am protecting Banna Plunk. She is going to teach me cursive, a large hole in my mastery of the Vaarekian language,” Sam said.
“I doubt that is your only reason,” Desmon said with a smirk.
Sam wondered, as well. “I think our relationship is not a simple one. In Toraltia, we weren’t in the same faction, I guess. On board ship, the situation changed. At this point, I think we are more aligned than not. Maybe like your brother-in-law and you. When we reach Tolloy, I’m not sure what will happen, but our relationship will have to change again. Sometimes I get confused about it.”
Desmon laughed. “So you do have an idea what we go through in Wollia. Factions shift like the sand on a Wollian beach.”
Sam didn’t think the simile was accurate, but he was in full agreement about the shifting. His relationship with Tru had shifted in the last year, from indifferent brother to ally, back a bit to an indifferent brother when his business with Antina Mulch began to grow, but in each change, nothing went back to the way it was before.
He wondered if part of that was the change in himself, as well. Perhaps people changed all the time. However, he wondered how much Banna Plunk had really changed and how much their relationship was based on their temporary truce.
“What do I have to do to keep from being a target in one of these raids?”
Desmon gave Sam an odd look. “You are asking me that? You’ve had more adventures than I have.”
The First Mate called for Desmon. “I have to go,” the sailor said as he ran to his shipmate.
Sam looked back at Port Hassin. He wished the new passengers would arrive soon, so they could sail away, leaving Wollia behind.
“Smith, come up here.” Captain Darter’s voice carried from the steering deck, behind him.
Sam turned and looked up at the Captain and at the few sailors working on the helm. He climbed up the steep stairs and stood in front of the captain like any officer would.
“What were you talking about with Desmon Sandal?” she said. The captain had made it clear when they first got underway that she had the right to know everything that went on in the ship. Interrogating him was something she had done only a few times during the voyage.
“Desmon has connections in Port Hassin. I was asking for his perspective, ma’am.” He told her about Commander Ilsur and Pamon Tandar, finishing with Banna and his meeting with Mito Nakara.
She sighed. “I’m sorry you have had to work for the Wollians. I must admit I like living on the ship much better than a hotel, since we have had to wait so long for Professor Smallbug to arrive. I am giving Smallbug five more days to show up, if it is of any consolation, then we raise anchor and leave. Can you stay alive and intact for that long?”
Sam managed a smile. “I will do my best. I didn’t realize that I’d continue to be an unattached apprentice snoop while we sailed.”
“No apprentice, in my view, Smith. You’ve managed well on your own, and if I were you, I would get letters of recommendation from the Vizier and Ilsur when this is over.”
“I haven’t earned one from the Vizier yet.”
Darter smiled. “You will.”
~
Mito Nakara put his finger to his lips. They stood at the back of a carriage repair shop on the east side of Port Hassin while Banna Plunk examined wards and directed Sam how to clear them. They had just deactivated the last ward on the door.
Ten constables stood behind them, ready to plunge into the carriage shop and fight with Vaarekian spies and their nomad allies. Banna nodded, and Nakara kicked the door open. They all ran into the carriage shop, finding it empty.
Mito curled his hand into a fist and slammed it into his thigh. “This can’t go on!” he said.
Sam looked about the empty shop and thought back to the iceman’s shop in Baskin where bodies were hidden in the basement of the warehouse.
“Look for hidden doors in the walls and trapdoors in the floor,” Sam said to the Wollian constables. “Your targets might still be here.”
Mito nodded. “Of course.” He looked at the men still milling around. “Do as he says!”
Sam entered the office to look for evidence and discovered tracks leading into a closet. The sheen of a ward caught his eye.
“Banna!” he called out.
“What have you found?”
“A ward. Can you tell me how to defeat it?”
She looked closely. “This one is different. No layers, and it doesn’t explode.” She squinted at it and pulled out Sam’s spyglass, but in the end she shook her head. Banna took a deep breath and touched the ward.
The ground began to rumble under her feet. Sam took her hand and ran out of the office as the floor exploded and dropped into a hole.
Mito shook his head. “I’ll get Commander Ilsur to get this cleared out.�
�
“One less hideout,” Sam said.
Later, they sat at the cleared out basement office that served as the Wollian spies headquarters. All six of them sat in the room along with Banna and Sam.
“You haven’t bothered to look for wards in the past, have you?” Banna asked Mito.
“Why would we think of such a thing? We don’t use wards in Wollia.”
“Didn’t, past tense. The Vaarekians resorted to wards to destroy the back part of the Rakwall Armory,” Sam said. “Now a Vaarekian with different ward skills is using a different kind of ward to warn them when someone approaches. That’s what I think. The ward sends a signal to another ward that notifies them when they are coming, or sets off a different kind of ward, like the one that blew the top off their escape tunnel.”
“He is right,” Banna said. “We will have to do a better job of detecting wards. I will instruct you how to do that. The one that I touched won’t hurt you, but it is a little harder to detect. The Vaarekian spies can cover that with dirt or a carpet in a room or hallway to alert them. I think I can duplicate it.”
“Tomorrow,” Mito said. “Just before the noon hour. We are working on a cluster of other sites to attack. You can leave while my men and I work on our next attack.”
Sam gladly left them to their planning, since he had nothing to add. While Sam and Banna walked back to the ship, he asked, “Can you really duplicate the ward?”
Banna gave Sam a very confident smile. “Of course. I am a pollen magician. I do little more than think of the effect or the object, and it appears,” she said.
They sat in the empty officer’s mess while Banna demonstrated her magical prowess. She created three shiny spots, shiny when Sam had the spectacles on. One of the remote wards created a light, another exploded with a barely audible pop, and the last one made the sound of a person passing gas.
“That was actually funny,” Sam said.
Banna produced an uncharacteristically sly face. “I thought it was appropriate for a teenager.”
Sam leaned back, “How can we detect these?”
“Let me make another set,” she said, which she did. “Now we create a pollen felt covering, a few inches thick, similar to nomad robes, and lay it on the wards.” She produced a slab of fibrous pollen and laid it on the shiny spots.
“Pound on it, Sam.”
He did as Banna asked and nothing happened.
She made a thinner pad, and Sam was able to work the wards.
“So thick pads—” Sam said.
“That anyone can make. We don’t have to spend as much time trying to defeat the wards, since the spies can cover them up. I can’t think of a quicker solution, and I’m not sure they have the skills to recognize and defeat a ward if they are unfamiliar with how wards are made. People spend years learning.”
“Or magicians spend minutes thinking.”
Banna grimaced. “There really aren’t that many pollen magicians, Sam. Harlik Bonkle was very proficient, but as I thought back on his wards, I couldn’t see the magic, just an excellent manipulator.”
Sam didn’t know if Banna was making the case that she was very unique, or if she was pulling his leg.
“We will demonstrate the effect tomorrow. I wondered,” Sam said, “if you could make the fart ward emit a proper fartish smell.”
Banna shook her head in reproof. “A childish prank?”
Sam thought for a moment. “Yes. It is something a teenager would do, and as you said, I am one.”
Chapter Twenty-One
~
N akara’s office had to be evacuated since Banna’s smell ward was more successful than anyone imagined.
Sam couldn’t keep the smile off his face, and once everyone was outside the office, they all broke out laughing. Even Banna unsuccessfully tried to keep from smiling.
“Perhaps we can make them laugh to death,” Nakara said. “We will move to another office, and everyone will learn to make the pads.”
After Banna’s quick session, Nakara declared it would be easy enough to all the constables on a raid to learn how to make thick blankets on the spot. Sam immediately realized that wards could be mounted to walls or hung from the ceilings, defeating the pads, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He could let the others figure that out, since it was obvious to him.
A constable interrupted the conference being held in the corridor and delivered a message to Nakara.
“We have to move now,” the spy said. “Get ready to make pads when we get there.”
Nakara’s men ran up to the stable in the back of the constabulary and mounted horses, along with fifteen constables. They took off towards another part of Port Hassin. Sam urged Banna to keep up with them, or they would be lost in the neighborhood of twisting streets that they had just entered.
When they reached a tiny square with a fountain bubbling in the center, Nakara raised his hand for everyone to stop.
“Tie your horses up,” he said, while pulling out a street map. He drew everyone close and assigned constables led by spies to surround a curio shop.
“Since wards are less likely at the entrance,” Banna said, “Sam and I will join the group guarding the back entrance.”
Nakara nodded. “Let us get something this time.”
The groups split up. Sam and Banna were told to come to the front of their group to watch for wards. Sam had already handed his spyglass to Banna, and they both examined the back gate for wards, while the two spies that accompanied them watched Banna make thick pollen mats.
“There is one on the latch,” Sam said, looking at the sheen on the metal.
“We climb the fence,” their temporary leader said.
“I’m not climbing a fence,” Banna said. “Not in this dress. Sam, it is time to use a little gold, but don’t touch. Even if you do, it won’t explode, since there aren’t any layers.”
Sam wouldn’t have minded going over the fence, but he pulled out a gold top and screwed it on his wand and held it close to the ward. Banna didn’t have to tell him not to touch it. The ward lasted only a moment before the sheen began to waver and the ward disintegrated.
Banna didn’t wait to open the gate to enter.
“Stop!” Sam said, but Banna took a step anyway. “It was covered with a ward.” Sam groaned; however, sounds of a fight were coming from the house. “It looks like Nakara has made our ward removal moot.”
The constables and spies in the party broke down the door and rushed into the house. Sam winced when he heard two explosions. A woman ran down the stairs and pushed Banna aside as she fled through the gate. Sam didn’t pursue her, since there were spies and a constables at either end of the alley.
They ran inside to see their fellow raiders either injured or helping the injured. Nakara bent over a spy, applying a pollen bandage. He looked up. “Find what you can, Smith,” he said before turning his attention back to the moaning spy.
Banna was already examining the shop’s wares. “Be careful,” she said to Sam.
Sam didn’t need a warning, with the groaning evident all around him. He carefully walked through the shop and encountered a glass cabinet filled with jewelry that looked a lot like Antina Mulch’s work.
“These are Vaarekian designs,” Sam said.
Banna walked over and peered at the work. “Pollen stones. The work is passable, but that kind of thing is common in Tolloy.
“Antina Mulch, my Vaarekian tutor in Baskin, made this kind of jewelry and did quite well.”
With a snort, Banna said, “Novelty. She sells because Vaarekian designs are unique in Baskin. Toraltian jewelry would be unique in Tolloy, but not with pollen stones.”
Sam remembered Antina telling Tru that scarcity would make his work popular. She was practicing the same kind of thing with Vaarekian designs, but Antina’s work included jewelry more Toraltian, as well. He understood what Banna was saying though.
“I’m going upstairs,” Sam said.
He ascended the staircase, and
by the time he was halfway to the top, Banna had begun to follow. Sam spotted a foot-square ward on the floor and pointed it out to her.
She bent over. “Layers. It is probably the same ward that disabled those downstairs. A pad is the best solution.” Banna quickly spun a thick pad and placed it on the ward. “It was probably placed there when the woman heard the constables downstairs.”
“Anybody could have come in,” Sam said.
“But constables and soldiers have places they search that customers don’t.”
That sounded reasonable to Sam. The woman had no papers in her room that Sam could find. Nothing in the drawers, under the mattress, inside nor outside the same drawers, nothing. As they wound down their search, they found another ward in front of a wardrobe.
“The latch appears to be safe,” Sam said. He listened to the continuing moans from downstairs. “I don’t think we can make a move without checking.”
“It pays to be cautious in a situation like this,” Banna said.
She should know, Sam thought. He put his gold-tipped wand near the ward on the floor and watched it fade, but then the sheen returned. “It has become shiny, again.”
“A layer. Keep going. Another instance of a Vaarekian and not a Wollian at work making wards,” Banna said.
After two more layers, Sam touched the wand to the spot and nothing happened. He stood and opened the wardrobe. A spicy smell assaulted his nose. “Is this something I should be wary of?” he said.
Banna poked her head in the wardrobe. “Many Vaarekian women do this to make all their clothes smell the same.”
Sam nodded. “A familiar scent to be memorable?”
She returned a smile in response to his comment. “Exactly. And that is exactly why I do no such thing.”
Sam dropped the subject, knowing the answer to why she didn’t want to be memorable.
“Step aside,” Banna said as she began to go through the clothes, finding nothing of value. She snorted. “Your turn.”
Sam didn’t go through the clothes but examined the front, sides, and back of the wardrobe, looking for some kind of paperwork. He pulled out the woman’s shoes on a shelf underneath and put his hand in the opening and felt a box.
