Deceptions (Ascendant Book 3)

by Craig Alanson

  Cecil made an almost imperceptible shrug. “That’s good enough for me.” There were magical means of ensuring a person kept secrets, if needed.

  Reed called a crewman into the cabin and ordered him to send for Jofer, hoping the man had not already drunk his daily ration of rum. Of all Jofer’s bad qualities, he was not a drunkard, but with the ship slowly rotting at anchor, many of the remaining crew had become bored and looked for rum to past the time.

  Jofer came into the cabin, bowing and pressing a fist to his forehead as a gesture of respect when he saw the wizards. “Your Lordships,” the man was trembling slightly.

  Cecil took pity on him. “Jofer, Captain Reed informs us that you are the most experienced sailor aboard the Lady Hildegard.”

  Jofer looked up to meet the tall wizard’s eyes, his hands still shaking slightly. “That I am,” he said warily. He did not know if by ‘experienced’ the wizard was simply using a kindly word for ‘old’.

  “In this case, it is your knowledge of Tokmanto that we seek,” Cecil continued.

  “Tok-” Jofer swallowed hard, coughing. “Begging your pardon, Your Lordship, but I have not been there in many year.” His expression turned thoughtful. “The Royal Navy has not been there in many a year, me thinks. Captain, you may have been with the last squadron to sail past that nest of snakes, and that was before we met. The Captain here could tell you more recent news of Tokmanto, but I don’t see how as that could be useful to you.”

  “Aye, Jofer, it has been a long time, too long, since the Royal Navy ruled the seas and kept that nest of snakes trapped at Tokmanto. You served with the blockading squadron when the pirates of Acedor dared not challenge us upon the seas,” he fed the man’s ego, knowing that would make the old sailor more at ease and cooperative.

  “We did make those pirates fear us,” Jofer stood up straight and puffed out his chest with pride. Then his shoulder sagged. “But the Royal Navy has fallen on hard times, and can’t even protect their own ships. I can’t tell you anything about what ships the enemy has at Tokmanto now. I’ve heard rumors, of course, and I like gossip as much as the next man,” his eyes briefly twinkled, “but I know not to put any stock in unfounded rumors.”

  “Neither wind nor tide will have changed since you last were there?” Paedris spoke to the old sailor for the first time.

  Jofer appeared surprised by the question. “I suppose not, Your Lordship. What is it you wish to know?”

  Captain Reed explained the situation, and their problem. To his amazement, light came into Jofer’s eyes and the man smacked a fist into his palm. “You mean to attack the pirates in their lair?” He grinned with fierce enjoyment at that thought. “Oh, the old girl would like that, wouldn’t she?” Reaching up to touch the wood beam, he patted it affectionately. “Slowly fading away of dry rot at anchor is no fate for a fine ship like our Lady.”

  “Yes, Jofer, we do mean to hit the pirates where they least expect it. The question is, how to do that,” Reed ground his teeth. “I am not as familiar as you with Tokmanto, but I do not see any way for the Lady to gain entrance to the harbor. We are too slow to storm the entrance, even if we strip the ship of everything not needed for a one-way voyage. Even at night, I cannot think of a way to get us close enough, quickly enough, to race through the gap. The guard ships would be on us before we could get through the reef.”

  “Aye,” Jofer tugged at his beard. “It is a puzzle, for certain.” He stepped forward to gaze at the map, recalling the years he had served aboard ships of the blockading squadron, sailing back and forth, east to west and back again across the mouth of the harbor, in good weather and bad. For a long minute, his fingers traced long-forgotten contours of the land, his lips moving silently as he recalled ships and shipmates long scattered to the winds. “There is a strong onshore wind most days,” he looked up at Reed. “It picks up mid-mornings, and slackens off toward evening. We could not count on a favorable wind to get us close to the reef during the night. Unless,” he turned to Cecil, “Your Lordships could arrange a strong nighttime wind for us?”

  “Your captain asked us for such a favor. Unfortunately, the answer is no. To conjure up a wind strong enough to move this ship swiftly would attract attention from wizards of the enemy. Worse, it would alert the enemy to our presence, which we cannot risk. No,” Paedris looked wistfully at the map, thinking of the havoc he could wreak if he were not under restrictions of secrecy. “There are subtle tricks we can play with the weather, if given time for preparation, and favorable conditions. Summoning a wind where one is normally absent is not within our powers on this voyage.”

  “Hmm.” Jofer stared at the map again. “Captain Reed is right, there is no way for a single ship to force the harbor entrance. When I was with the blockading squadron, the admiral considered going in with a half dozen, or maybe it was eight ships, to hit the pirates. Winer was coming on, and none of us could bear the thought of another cold, dreary season sailing back and forth across the entrance to the damned harbor.” Jofer blanched at realizing he used bad language in front of two wizards. “Begging your pardon, Your Lordships.”

  “I would use harsher language to describe what the ancient harbor of Talannon has become, but ‘damn’ will do nicely for now,” Cecil replied. “Go on, please.”

  “Uh, oh, yes,” Jofer was flustered. He had rarely met wizards, and never met wizards who acted like regular people. “The admiral had a scheme to, as I said, send in eight ships. Four ships to tangle with the guard ship, and four loaded with extra sailors to land at the docks. We planned to knock holes in the bottom of all the ships at the docks, then burn the ships and the dockyards. That would have set them back years. Ships can be repaired, but not without dockyards. They would have had to construct new dockyards, and bring in all new spars, timbers, sailcloth, everything. The admiral’s hope was that winter, he could pull most of the blockading squadron back into port, rebuild our strength. Our ships were getting worn out from beating back and forth all day, every day, month after month, you see.”

  “Why didn’t the admiral launch the attack?” Paedris asked intently.

  “Too difficult,” Jofer shook his head slowly and sadly. His ship had been assigned to assault the docks, and he had known that he and many of his shipmates would likely die in Acedor, far from home. Of those who were not killed, many of them would become slaves and wish they had died. Despite that terrible knowledge, Jofer and his fellows had been eager for a fight, anything to break the suffocating monotony of the endless blockade. “The evil one,” he made a hex sign in the air with his fingers to ward off the demon, “must have sensed we were planning something, or their sailors simply used common sense and knew we would be desperate enough to try an attack before winter. Our attack was planned for a moonless night, on the slack tide, but three days before we could strike, more than a thousand enemy soldiers marched down from the hills to reinforce the port. Two guard ships became four, and our chance was lost. It was a cruelly bitter pill to swallow. The enemy kept up their vigilance until the winter storms began rolling in, and our squadron had to pull away from the coast lest we be dashed upon the reefs. When the relief squadron arrived in midwinter, it had four fewer ships, and three years later, the Royal Navy ceased the blockade. We missed our opportunity then, and that’s a pity. Aye, we would have lost ships, and good sailors, but how many have we lost since then? And for what? Nothing! Now those pirates rule the seas, and our own Navy fears to set out from port. Ha!” He almost spat in disgust, holding himself back because of the wizards. “I’d barely call what we have now a ‘Navy’. Many a good shipmate of mine now sleeps beneath the waves, or died chained to the oars of a pirate ship.” He used the back of a sleeve wipe away tears. “Better I had died burning out that nest of pirates, I tell you.”

  Jofer’s vehement anger was a revelation to Reed, who had only ever seen the man moping around on deck, or slacking off, or engaged in idle gossip. Maybe all the man needed was a cause to believe in, to know his life had
purpose. Reed had been planning to leave Jofer on shore when the Hildegard set sail, now he was reconsidering. If the man could be relied on, then his knowledge of Tokmanto harbor might be a useful, even vital, asset.

  “There is, there is,” Jofer’s voice trailed off as his mind was flooded with memories. With a fingertip, he traced the outline of Tokmanto harbor on the map, and when he spoke again, it was barely above a whisper. “There is one possibility.” He looked up to meet Reed’s eye. “Before the admiral decided to storm the harbor entrance by force, there was another plan. My captain thought we should have tried it, and so did I. More’s the pity we never did. See this headland here,” he pointed to the western arm of the harbor. “The reef doesn’t extend onto shore, instead there are jagged rocks. The cliffs there go straight up, most of those rocks in the water broke off the cliffs over the ages. The channel between the cliff and the rocks is narrow, and you have to know those waters, but it can be done if the ship doesn’t draw too much water. There are submerged rocks that could rip out a ship’s bottom if she’s not lucky. A pirate ship slipped through our blockade one night, coming into the harbor. It ran through that channel, one of our ships gave chase but had to break away.”

  “It struck a rock?” Alfonze guessed.

  “No, it turned away before then,” Jofer explained. “The enemy has catapults atop the cliffs, they can throw bombs of burning oil down on any ship trying to run that channel; our ship couldn’t risk going right under those cliffs. Our ship found one thing that was very interesting to the admiral; there is a strong current running eastward along that headland. Once the pirate ship caught that current, they raised oars and were carried along swiftly.”

  “Why does that matter?” Paedris asked from ignorance.

  “Because,” that brought a smile to Jofer’s face. “The admiral was thinking we wouldn’t need an onshore breeze to carry us into the harbor if we can get into that current. We could attack at night, when the wind dies. All we would need to do is wait for a good, thick fog so those catapults on the cliffs above can’t see us, and we ride that current right on into the enemy’s very lap,” he balled up his fists in delight at that thought.

  “Mmmm,” Reed murmured, unconvinced. He looked to Alfonze, who nodded.

  “Jofer,” Alfonze pointed to the map, running a fingertip from the narrow channel under the cliffs to the wide-open harbor beyond. “The current must fall off when the channel opens into the bay here. On a night of fog, there will be little wind. Once a ship comes out into the bay and loses the current, it will be adrift and easy prey for the pirate guard ships.”

  “No,” Jofer jabbed the map excitedly. “You see here, this gap in the hills beyond the harbor, above the cliffs?” He indicated a spot several miles from the harbor. “Most nights, there is a wind blowing down this gap in the evening. My captain told me when the sun goes down, the air cools, and well,” he was embarrassed by such an absurd notion, “the air get heavier, and it rushes down this gap into the harbor.”

  “The air gets heavy?” Alfonze’s skepticism was clear.

  “It’s true!” Jofer insisted. “The locals even have a name for that wind, although, I can’t think of it right now. Anyways, a ship coming out into the harbor, if everything is timed just right, could pick up that wind as it leaves the current here. It’s true!” He scrunched up his face at seeing the expression Alfonze was giving him. “We even tested it once, the admiral did, I mean. He sent a boat through on a foggy night, just one boat with a dozen men. The boat went through the channel, picked up that wind I talked about, but the wind was late that night. By the time the boat caught the wind, the fog was lifting, and one of the guard ships spotted our boat. The boat tried to make it back over the reef, it was a shallow-draft boat and the surf was gentle that night. But,” he closed his eyes sadly, “they didn’t make it. The boat got hung up on the reef, then turned turtle. Fortunately for those wretches, they were all bashed against the reef and drowned. A better fate for them than becoming slaves on a pirate ship.”

  Reed could only imagine that terrible sight. “The admiral never tried that again?”

  “One of the men aboard that lost boat was the admiral’s son,” Jofer explained.

  “Oh,” Reed looked away.

  “The admiral, and my captain, were fairly sure the pirates never knew how our boat got into the harbor. They likely thought it floated in over the reef at high tide, then got trapped. For a fortnight, the pirates doubled the number of guard ships at night, but they never did anything about stretching a chain across that channel under the cliffs.”

  “There was no chain in that channel when I was there, years later.” Captain Reed mused while rubbing his chin. “One of our ships did approach those cliffs, just to tweak the enemy’s noses, until the catapults on the cliff top came close to hitting the ship. I remember seeing fishing boats in that area,” he fought to bring long-unused memories to the surface of his mind. “Jofer, thank you, that is interesting. Your Lordships,” he turned to the wizards, “I do not see how this helps us. The current is reliable, but we would need to catch that evening wind at the right moment. And I do not think you can have us linger just over the horizon for weeks while we wait for a heavy fog to roll in.”

  “No, we cannot wait,” Paedris stated. He hunched forward over the table, taking in the map’s intricate details. “Captain, if you can get this good ship into that channel at night, and take advantage of a fortuitous current and wind, then I,” he grinned broadly, “will provide the fog.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Olivia groaned and tugged at the collar of her formal scarlet robes, reaching behind her neck to undo one button that had been choking her. The morning had been dull and tedious and boring, and Olivia could not believe she had gotten stuck with the duty of being Ariana’s supernatural bodyguard. Everything the young princess did at the palace was dull and formal and uninteresting, even the changing of the guard ceremony caused Olivia to stifle a yawn, as she had already seen that daily ceremony many times from across the courtyard. Being beside the dais where the princess stood was no more interesting.

  At least now, Olivia told herself, she was not stuck shadowing Ariana’s every move. In her role as Regent, the crown princess would be spending the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon catching up on the frustrating but necessary paperwork of the realm. While Ariana was trapped in an office reviewing accounts and other pressing yet mundane matters of state, Olivia would finally be free to inspect the magical wards Paedris had placed around entrances to the royal residence, and using her senses to pry for any hidden dangers. During their long journey back from the mountains, Olivia had pleaded to ride ahead on a swift horse, so she could inspect the security of the palace before the princess arrived, but Ariana had insisted Olivia remain with the royal carriage. There were hundreds of royal guards at the palace, Ariana reasoned, and wizards had exhaustively combed the palace for threats less than a month ago. How could the enemy have snuck someone inside the palace, past all the guards and magical wards, in so short a time? Especially while the enemy had been concentrating all their efforts on forcing a crossing of the River Fasse and smashing through the Royal Army?

  Olivia admitted Ariana’s logic sounded correct, and she had no argument against it, but she still felt it was wrong in a way she could not explain. Her uneasy feeling was not a magical sense, for she had not yet mastered that ability of listening to the faintly whispered, maddeningly vague warnings from the spirit world. Such warnings were all too easily corrupted by a skilled enemy, so that Madame Chu and other master wizards had cautioned Olivia against relying on the spirit world providing her advanced notice of impending disasters. No, the feeling Olivia had was entirely of the real physical world, and she could not shake it.

  Walking down an elaborate hallway of the palace’s second level, she took deep breaths, forcing herself to relax. She was being overcautious, she told herself. It was early afternoon of a bright, sunny day and the princess was in her o
ffice surrounded by guards and courtiers. Olivia would have been happier for the future monarch to be within the bounds of the royal residence part of the palace, within the protection of magical wards to warn of intruders. Still, any attempt on the life of the princess would likely come after darkness, and at that time, Ariana Trehayme would be tucked away inside the residence. Olivia needed to tour the halls of the palace for the next several hours, keeping her senses open to the subtle vibrations of dark magic. After a light dinner, she would rest so she could remain awake throughout the night, keeping watch against supernatural threats as only a wizard could.

  Thinking of dinner caused her stomach to grumble and made her regret skipping a meal at mid-day. She thought longingly of the afternoon tea the princess would be enjoying as that girl endured the grind of dealing with the hundreds of people who urgently needed the Regent’s attention over the coming days. Olivia actually smiled, considering that staying awake to patrol the palace all night was preferable to-

  What was that? Her reverie was broken by shouts coming from the broad set of stairs leading to the first level of the palace. As she broke into a run, the shouting was accompanied by the clashing of swords and screams of men dying!

  Cully Runnet had been walking across the inner courtyard of the palace, hurrying as best he could without calling attention to himself, and skirting the walls to stay in the shadows. As he had come directly from working in the royal stables and was not as clean as he could be, he was not supposed to be so close to the palace. The official rules stated servants were to be dressed in a ‘presentable fashion’ while crossing the inner courtyard, but going all the way from the stables to the royal hospital was such a long and convoluted way around, unless you took a shortcut through the inner courtyard. Cully and many other servants had used the shortcut often while the crown princess had been away from the palace, and that day he justified using the shortcut one more time because the princess having just returned meant he had extra work. A frightening lot of extra work that had gotten him up well before the sun rose over the hills east of Linden, and would have him busy long after the sun set and the only light was provided by torches and lanterns.