Deceptions (Ascendant Book 3)

by Craig Alanson

  “Ah, I should sow greed rather than fear,” Cecil smiled tightly. He rubbed a finger against his cheek while he thought. “I could try, Paedris. It would be helpful if the pirates thought this ship a difficult quarry to catch, so they could do the work of persuading themselves for me.”

  It was Lord Salva’s turn to smile, and his was broad. “Use the enemy’s weakness against them?”

  “Just so.”

  “I will request Captain Reed to turn the ship-”

  Cecil caught his friend’s arm. “Paedris, wait. I will send forth my senses first, to judge our chances of success.”

  “Agreed,” Paedris said, and helped the tall, thin wizard to sit so he could concentrate.

  Cecil gathered himself, calming the clamor of his inner thoughts and reaching into the spirit world for power. Gently, subtly, he sent the faintest wisp of his consciousness on a thin, ephemeral tendril reaching out toward the enemy. Unaware of wind or wave as he sought the minds aboard the pirate ship, he used only the bare minimum or power to-

  And he recoiled in shock, gasping as his eyes flew open. “Paedris! I can do nothing. There is a wizard aboard that ship!”

  “A wizard?” Paedris gasped a whisper. “How could-” he stopped himself. No, a wizard aboard a pirate ship did not necessarily mean the enemy knew of their secret mission. “Did you get a sense of-”

  “Not a wizard of your power, Paedris,” Cecil anticipated his friend’s question. “But, powerful enough. I cannot attempt to influence their minds without first acting on that wizard, and I judge,” he sat up straighter to look over the rail, “that will take too long.” The pirate ship was close enough to see men on her deck shaking their fists at the Hildegard.

  “Ah,” Paedris sighed deeply in frustration. “A wizard is a complication which could be fatal to our mission.”

  “Even if you sink that ship,” Cecil held his hands palms upward.

  “Yes,” Paedris snorted. “That wizard would live long enough to signal his dark master that wizards of Tarador are at sea. Even his death would be like ringing a bell.”

  “What can we do, then?”

  “I will inform Captain Reed it is time to run straight away, or play whatever other card he has up his sleeve.”

  “And I? Is there anything I can do?”

  Paedris took a moment to think. “Cecil, you can pray for our deliverance.”

  Reed played his only card. He turned to run more with the wind, and ordered his crew to scramble aloft to lay on additional sail until it seemed like even the crew’s dirty laundry was being tied to a mast. The Lady Hildegard surged forward, helped by another strenuous effort by her crew to shift cargo below decks. “This is the best she can do, Lord Mwazo,” Reed said with a nod of his head rather than a bow that he did not have time for. The other wizard had gone below to rest, preserving his power for the coming conflict.

  “I have never been aboard a ship so swift,” Cecil replied truthfully, though as he had no way of knowing the ship’s exact speed, he could perhaps be forgiven any exaggeration. “How long now?” He knew Paedris would appreciate a quarter hours’ notice before he was needed on deck.

  “Half a glass?” Reed guessed. “It depends on how eager those pirates are to grapple with us before dark. They could take to their oars and be upon us quickly, if they- what?” He was startled by what he saw.

  The pirate ship had turned, swinging her bow around to run perpendicular to the wind. Reed feared the enemy was moving to get in front of his ship, but the enemy continued to turn until they were sailing northeast, exposing their stern to the Hildegard. On the aft deck of the pirate ship, a half dozen pirates were jeering and shouting at Reed, their words carried away by the wind. He did not need to hear the words to understand their meaning, then one pirate added emphasis to his jeers by bending over and pulling his pants, to show his bare buttocks to the fleeing merchant ship.

  Embarrassed for his honored guest, Reed turned to apologize to Lord Mwazo when that wizard smiled. “Well, I suppose if you don’t have anything to show in the front-”

  Reed guffawed at the unexpected remark, and in an instant, every sailor in earshot was doubled over with convulsions of laughter. There was a sound of boots pounding on a ladder and the court wizard appeared on deck, looking around in astonishment. “What did I miss?”

  “Apparently there was nothing to see,” Cecil choked laughing at his own joke. “That is the point,” he slapped Reed’s shoulder for emphasis, and the captain grinned.

  Recovering his wits, Reed pointed to the swiftly receding pirate ship. “My guess is when they saw how high we are riding in the water, they judged us not worth the fight. Not when our decoy force is still so tempting.”

  “You are certain?” Paedris asked, fearful of getting his hopes up.

  “Certain? At sea, I can be certain of nothing. I judge the enemy would not be showing their stern to us now, if they still intend to engage us in battle. We are safe enough for now, Lord Salva. By nightfall I expect us to be over the horizon, out of the sea lanes, and once under cover of darkness we will turn westward toward Acedor, where no one will expect us to be. Alfonze!” He roared. “We should lighten sail before this wind carries away a mast.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Regin Falco swept into the room, not waiting to be formally announced. Upon reaching the castle the day of the attempted assassination, he had found the drawbridges up and the gates shut and barred, even to him. No amount of bellowed threats had persuaded the castle guards to give him entrance, though they had reported there was no apparent danger at the royal hospital. Hearing that his son had not been harmed made Regin shudder with relief, momentarily swaying in the saddle and accepting a steadying hand from one of his escorts. Then, after he demanded to know what had happened, he received a great shock; princess Ariana had been attacked but was alive. Alive! He could not believe it, and this time he nearly fell out of his saddle. Instead of racing back to the castle to take command in the chaos and begin to cement his power, he was faced with the very real prospect of his entire plan having failed and his treason discovered.

  Regin Falco had become duke of Burwyck province due to fortunate order of birth and having survived his younger brother’s attempts to kill him. He had remained his position because he thought quickly and decisively, and that is what he did then. His near-swoon in the saddle was, he explained with false embarrassment, due to his great relief that his Regent and future daughter in law had survived. The words and actions of Duke Falco at the moment of receiving word that the princess had survived would be inquired about and reported, Regin knew, if not to Ariana herself then certainly to her very shrewd and capable chancellor.

  That was why as soon as Regin was allowed into the castle, with the immediate crisis over, he went directly to the crown princess rather than to see his son. Before Ariana could speak, the duke of Burwyck province dropped to one knee and gazed down at his well-polished boots. “Your Highness, I have failed you. I cannot ask for forgiveness.”

  Ariana was taken aback, both by the duke’s unexpected arrival and by what he said. She had been writing a letter to a baroness who wished to meet with the crown princess and now would have to wait until the palace was declared fully secured. “What? Your Grace, what do you mean?” She was automatically suspicious about anything Regin Falco said.

  Not looking up to meet her eyes, the duke spoke and his voice was truly miserable. “Captain Temmas told me about the attempt on your life, Highness. Before you arrived, I inspected the palace for security risks, including the Citadel, and the lower tunnels. I am worthless! The assassin gained entry to the palace through an aqueduct, after I made the guards carefully inspect all the locks on those gates!”

  “Duke Falco,” she looked to her chancellor, having no idea what to say in response. “Captain Temmas is still investigating how the enemy got inside the palace, and if you insisted on assuring the locks were in working order,” she waved a hand unsurely, “that could only have made
the enemy’s task more difficult.”

  “I thank you for your kind words, Highness, but I failed nonetheless. Princess Ariana,” he glanced up to meet her gaze. “Your family and mine have had our differences over the years. We are now at war, in a desperate battle for the survival of our entire nation. My duty is to do everything within my power to assist you in winning this war. You are my Regent, and my future daughter in law. I will not accept risks to your safety, but I failed you.”

  With the duke gazing back down at his boots, Chancellor Kallron raised his hands palms upward to the crown princess, not knowing how she should respond. One thing he did know was the Falcos in general and Regin in particular were not to be trusted, but the duke had made a very good point. The man was determined, even obsessed, with his son marrying Ariana and the next heir to the throne being Regin’s grandchild. It made perfect sense that Duke Falco wished absolute assurance that Ariana survive to inherit the throne, marry Kyre Falco and have a baby. After that baby was born, of course, Kallron knew the future Queen Ariana would have to watch her back whenever the duke was around, but until a Falco-Trehayme baby was born? No, Gustov Kallron could not think of any reason Regin Falco would wish or allow harm to the crown princess. He knew Duke Falco had been inspecting security of the palace and in the surrounding castle, and at the time Kallron had been mildly irritated about the interference. The chancellor had allowed the duke’s poking into every nook and cranny of the palace because doing so had kept Regin busy enough he had not time to bother the palace staff other than the guard force. And, also, Kallron had allowed it because the palace security needed to be reviewed anyway prior to Ariana’s return, and a fresh set of eyes never hurt. Thus, he did not object to or question Duke Falco’s apparently heartfelt apology.

  “Duke Falco, we,” Ariana replied using the royal ‘we’, “do not blame you for missing signs of supernatural intrusion into the palace. Lady Dupres is even now searching the palace for magical devices of harmful intent.” Harmful intent. Such a soft-sounding phrase to speak of such evil. “You could not have seen a device created from dark magic. Perhaps,” she could not believe she was hearing herself offering praise to a Falco. “Your efforts are responsible, in some way, for the attempt on my life having failed?” She forced herself to smile, and when Duke Falco lifted his head, the anguish on his face was evident. After all, as a duke he would also have been escorted to the Citadel if he had been in the palace when the enemy attacked, it was the duke’s good luck that he had been out riding in the countryside at the time. Why did she feel the need to comfort her enemy? She did not know, but she felt it was the right thing to do under the circumstances. Maybe, just maybe, the long enmity between the Trehaymes and the Falcos could begin to be broken, even if just a tiny bit.

  “Thank you for your kind words, Highness,” Regin breathed a sigh of relief. “What can I do to help? Command me, and it shall be done.”

  “I,” she looked to her chancellor for guidance.

  “Please, Duke Falco,” Kallron spoke, “you can best help by continuing your efforts to rally the Regency Council behind the princess. We have a long struggle and many battles ahead of us, before the enemy is forced to give up hope of owning territory on our side of the border. Princess Ariana has won a smashing victory against the enemy, now some of the Council may be tempted to relax their support, to squabble amongst themselves, to resent the funds and troops they provide to assist the Royal Army. Now is not the time for our focus to waver.”

  “Yes,” Falco agreed grimly, rising to his feet. “It will be done.”

  “Your Grace?” Ariana added. “There is one other thing you may do, for us. Your heir acted bravely and was injured in the battle at the Gates. We would appreciate it if you could do what you can to raise his spirits, to ensure his swift recovery. We could,” words failed her. In spite of his words pledging eternal loyalty to her, Kyre Falco was her enemy and always would be. Why did she care that he not suffer permanent effects from his wounds? “We could use brave leaders like Kyre on our side.”

  At dinner that night, a feast delayed by the necessity for Captain Reed to assure his ship was properly rigged to run in darkness, the two wizards relaxed with Reed, Alfonze and Jofer. A bottle of wine provided by the court wizard made its way around the table, and Paedris found himself having to make an effort at conversation to keep the weary men around the table from falling asleep in their soup bowls. “Captain Reed, you mentioned today that this ship encountered pirates earlier this year, when you were coming from the South Isles? How did you survive?” In truth, Paedris had no great curiosity about what he expected to be a boastful tale of Reed’s superior seamanship, ship-handling skills and cleverness, he was only trying to be a polite guest at the captain’s table.

  As his captain was chewing on a mouthful of tough ship’s biscuit, Alfonze answered simply. “Magic,” he said while spooning soup into his mouth.

  “Aye,” Jofer agreed, and made a protective hex sign on his forehead. “Meaning no offense to you of course, your Lordships,” he was quick to add. “That there was dark magic,” he shuddered as he spoke.

  Reed swallowed his soup. “Not dark. It saved our lives, didn’t it?”

  “Aye,” muttered those men who had been part of the Hildegard’s crew back then, what seemed so long ago.

  Paedris froze in place, soup spoon halfway to his lips. The motion of the ship caused the soup to slosh off the spoon back into the bowl unnoticed. “What do you mean by ‘magic’?” When he first heard the word he thought Alfonze spoke in jest, or referred to some silly talisman the superstitious crew believed had magical powers. When Jofer remarked the magic had been dark, Paedris for some reason felt a chill on the back of his neck.

  “Captain?” Alfonze looked to the ship’s master. “You spoke to the boy, afterward.”

  “What boy?” Paedris demanded with a vehemence that startled the sailors.

  Reed set his spoon on the table. “I suppose there is no harm in telling you now. We had a boy in our crew, he came aboard at Tarador, before set sail for the South Isles. He-”

  Paedris reached to his right and took Reed’s forearm in a grip so powerful, the captain feared the two bones there would break. “What was his name?” Paedris half stood from his chair.

  “Lord Salva,” Reed pleaded in a strangled voice.

  “Paedris, you are hurting the man,” Cecil chided gently, tugging the other wizard’s hand away from the ship’s master.

  “Oh,” Paedris looked at his hand and released the captain. He addressed Alfonze and Jofer curtly. “Leave us. And close the door.”

  The two sailors did not argue, so fearsome was the expression the court wizard’s face. After Alfonze closed the door behind him, Reed stood and used a hook to close the skylight, explaining “The crew at the wheel can hear everything through that skylight. Lord Salva, what is so important about this boy?”

  “What was his name?” Paedris repeated. “And when did he come aboard?”

  “His called himself Kedrun.”

  “No surname?”

  “Many people who choose a life at sea go by one name, which might not be the name they were given at birth,” Reed shrugged. “Some people go to sea to escape something on land. I’ll not have a known criminal aboard my ship, but if someone chooses not to reveal his past, I ask only that he work hard and learn seamanship. This Kedrun joined us in late Spring, I can check the logs for the date if that would help you. He was young, fourteen, fifteen, maybe? Dark curly hair, and he was a landsman; he knew nothing of ships, sails, knots, nothing. We took him aboard partly for his skill as a cook, he told me his previous master liked spicy foods from, er,” he suddenly remembered that court wizard was not from Tarador, but Reed did not know Lord Salva’s homeland. “From Stade, perhaps? He was a good cook, exceptional, truly, the crew treasured him.”

  “Kedrun,” Paedris breathed, and slumped in his chair. “This ship? This very ship,” he excitedly jabbed a finger at the deck beneath his ch
air, “not another you commanded?”

  “Yes, truly,” Reed was mystified why a powerful wizard was so concerned about a mere boy. Unless- Reed sucked in a breath.

  “Captain,” Cecil spoke quietly with a glance toward the skylight. “You had best tell us the whole story.”

  With a slightly shaking hand, Reed poured himself a goblet of wine and took a mouthful before he plunged forward with the tale. The odd and unbelievable tale of Kedrun, the boy who had a potentially dangerous magic spell cast upon him by a wizard. While he told the story, he kept his gaze fixated on the wine goblet and avoided the intense eyes of Lord Salva. Kedrun had told of a wizard casting a spell on him, unwanted and without Kedrun’s knowledge. Was Lord Salva’s interest in the boy because the court wizard was outraged at the unlawful actions of a fellow wizard?

  Or because the very wizard from Stade who cast the spell on young Kedrun, was now sitting at Captain Reed’s table?

  Reed finished telling all he knew, he had surprisingly been interrupted only once, and that by Lord Mwazo. Lord Salva sat silently while Reed spun his tale, the court wizard seeming to fix his gaze on a flickering lantern hanging from a peg on the opposite wall. The three sat in uncomfortable silence, each lost in his own thoughts and listening to the groaning and creaking of the ship’s hull as it bobbed on the waves. Finally, Paedris cleared his throat and reached for the wine bottle, disappointed to find only a splash was left. “Captain Reed, you have no idea where this Kedrun boy went after he left your ship at Gertaborg?”

  “No, my Lord,” Reed replied truthfully. “If he took my advice, as he assured me he would, he was going upriver. Then,” Reed shrugged. “To the dwarf homelands, however he could. With the war on, I could not give him advice on how best to get there; I imagine some roads are jammed with traffic, and others left to bandits.”