Lioness of Kell

by Paul E. Horsman

  Jurgis stopped in his tracks. ‘Desperate?’

  ‘Before the war, we counted our warlocks in tens of thousands. We welcomed and cherished every child with the talent. Now we are ninety-nine and all are old folks. The one nearest in age to you and me is in her forties; the others were born before the war. They are scared. Afraid the Unwaari will come and kill the rest of them, afraid the high king will kick them out, afraid of being too visible and inviting the anger of the populace. That’s why they do these stupid things. Out of fear.’

  Jurgis fell down in the sand. ‘You people are unhealthy.’

  ‘Us people?’ his brother said. ‘You’re a Vanhaari, too.’

  Jurgis sat back, and his eyes were grim. ‘I’m no warlock. I haven’t got any magic.’

  Now it was Basil’s turn to stare. ‘Of course you have. All warlock children inherit their father’s powers.’

  Jurgis’ laugh sounded hollow. ‘Well, mine gave me precious little. I can recognize magic in an object; that’s about as far as it goes.’

  ‘But you must have. Perhaps you’re not aware of it yourself. No, that’s not possible. Magic always manifests itself.’ Basil waved his hand, and a small spark sprang over.

  Jurgis yelped, slapping at the smoke coming from his sleeve. ‘Why did you do that?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Basil stammered. ‘I ... You’re right! You can’t be a warlock. You should have stopped that spark instinctively. It’s one of the basic tests. Does it hurt?’

  ‘I’m sure it’s going to,’ Jurgis said savagely. ‘If you try another thing like that, I’ll beat the stuffing out of you. And you owe me a fine shirt, you bugger.’

  ‘You’ll get one of mine, I promise.’

  ‘Those frilly things?’ Jurgis said, nursing his arm. ‘No thanks.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘You know,’ he continued. ‘You warlocks should go out more. You’re getting funny in your heads, with your Rule of 99, your birthmothers and your beauty obsessions. Perhaps some warlocks should go and live elsewhere. See the world.’

  Basil looked up. ‘Like Kelwarg did?’

  ‘Tell me what you know about the Black Warlock,’ Jurgis said.

  ‘That’s not very much.’ Basil thought for a moment. ‘He was born a Kell. At eight, they sent him to us for schooling. Four years later, he disappeared. No one knows where he went, but he came back several years later. He joined the Council and after a while got himself chosen prince-warlock.’

  ‘Just like that? Nobody asked questions or anything?’

  Basil frowned. ‘Not that I know.’

  ‘Remarkable,’ Jurgis said. ‘Anyhow, after a while they kicked him out, didn’t they?’

  ‘Sure; my father had a hand in that. Not every councilor liked the Black Warlock and his dictatorial ways. After six years, they voted him out of office and had him arrested. They wanted to hang him, but while they talked about it, he escaped.’

  ‘And no one knows where he is now.’ Jurgis grunted. ‘Sloppy work, twin.’

  ‘Before my time.’ Basil shrugged. ‘The Tower Aware must have books about him. Perhaps we can find a hint about possible hiding places to search.’

  Jurgis jumped to his feet. ‘We’ll go there. Now I’m going for a swim. That Felrich even lied about the sharks.’

  When darkness fell, they sat down at dinner, served on the afterdeck. A slight breeze made it agreeable after the heat of the day. Maud took a deep breath. This was all so different from Kell. Overhead, the sky was full of stars and from the island came the sounds and smells of the tropics. It filled her with a contentment she had never known before.

  The Jentakan cook served them a large meal of rice with several side dishes of spicy stews, fresh fruits and small, crisply baked fish.

  ‘I could get used to this,’ Jurgis said, while he threw the rind of a sweet narango into the sea. ‘Are the Chorwaynie islands as pretty as this place?’

  Maud studied his face. He looked different with his short, black curls. It accentuated his maleness, and she liked the change.

  Beside her, Darquine smiled. ‘Easily as pretty, but there is a difference. Our islands are much larger than Alfway. Piright, which is the main island, has a length of almost one hundred and twenty miles. Towne, the capital, is bigger than Winsproke or Tar Kell. It’s built of local, white rock, so you’ll see it from miles away whenever the sun shines. Fastness, that’s the part on the top of the promontory, is as civilized as the high king’s city of Croncliff, while parts of Harbor, at the foot, can be as rough as Brisa.’

  At the other end of the table, Yarwan nodded in agreement. He hadn’t said much, but Maud thought he studied each of them. Probably careful, she thought. If he’d been bullied much about his sexuality, he would want to know them better before opening up.

  ‘Are you from Piright too?’ she asked.

  He stiffened at the direct question but answered readily enough. ‘I’m from Harbor. Unlike Darquine, who was born in Towne-Fastness, I grew up among the drunks and the drop-outs.’

  ‘Hah, there are plenty of those in the upper city,’ Darquine said. ‘We weren’t rich, either, before they made father the Overcaptain. I may have been born in Fastness, but not in a silk dress.’

  ‘You’re still upper-class and we are middle,’ the captain said. ‘That makes a difference. My mother is a ship chandler. She runs the Tarran store since my father got that fatal stroke. Business wasn’t all that great, though, when I left.’

  Darquine gaped at him. ‘You don’t say! All those years I knew you as Naching’s nephew. So Tarran Ship Chandlery is your mother. Perhaps she can refit us.’

  Yarwan lifted his shoulders. ‘She could, but I’m not sure if they’d allow her.’

  ‘Who are they?’

  ‘The Uys. The biggest crooks in Towne. Hinguy has tried to take over our business several times. If you gave us a contract, they’d lean on our suppliers not to deliver our orders.’

  Darquine’s lips curled in a wolfish smile. ‘I’m not afraid of Hinguy or his son.’ She rubbed her hands in anticipation of a fight. ‘If you’re ready, Captain Yarwan, we’ll sail for Piright at sunup in the morning.’

  Maud nodded at the sudden determination on Yarwan’s face. ‘That’s the spirit,’ she said. ‘We’ll let no crook browbeat us.’

  CHAPTER 12 - TOWNE

  ‘Land Ho!’ The cry from the masthead made everybody pause for the next words. ‘I see the gleam of the Fastness.’

  ‘There it is,’ Yarwan said. ‘Home—and not a mile off course.’

  ‘You did great!’ Basil felt a burst of happiness. Yarwan looked so proud that not being off course must be an accomplishment, and he was glad for him.

  When they neared the harbor mouth, a sleek galley shot out and came alongside, her six guns on either side run out.

  Basil frowned. ‘Trouble?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Darquine said with a big smile. ‘It’s just the harbormaster’s boat.’

  ‘What ship?’ a neatly uniformed officer bellowed from the galley’s afterdeck.

  Yarwan opened his mouth to reply, but Darquine was faster.

  ‘I’ll do ye the honor,’ she said and put her hands to her mouth. ‘Chorwaynie merchant cutter Daisee, Captain Yarwan commanding, coming home.’

  ‘Captain Yarwan?’ Even over the distance, Basil heard the surprise in the harbor official’s voice. ‘Welcome and well done, sir!’ the man called, with a brisk salute. ‘I’ll see you in port.’ The galley made a tight turn and sped back to its berth.

  Yarwan’s sigh was a shudder of pleasure at the official recognition, and his eyes were moist. ‘We’ll moor behind that big flute ship,’ he said, his voice rock-steady. Small and dauntless like a waterhawk, the Daisee approached the quay and then, at the last moment, a change of sails took the speed off the ship. As demure as a young maiden, the cutter snuggled into her berth.

  ‘We’re back,’ Yarwan said. Then he smiled. ‘Welcome to Harbor. It’s hot today.’

  Basil looked at hi
m and suppressed the urge to hug him. Not here! he thought. Not with all of the town looking. He puffed; with the speed off the ship the heat immediately became oppressive. It was just past noontime; the sea shimmered, and the smell of fish and rotting seaweed hung like a stifling blanket over the town.

  On the quay, both the harbormaster and his assistant from the galley waited to greet them.

  ‘Well met, Captain Yarwan,’ the old man said. ‘Quite a surprise, you coming back in command. The Daisee ... Wasn’t she an outlander pirate?’

  As they shook hands, Yarwan nodded. ‘She sailed under a Diblooni flag. We took her by boarding in Alfway Bay, after her former captain fired at us.’

  ‘Done in true Chorwaynie fashion!’ The harbormaster peered at him and lowered his voice. ‘You’re back just in time, Yarwan. Your ma’s in trouble. Hinguy’s people are at the store.’

  Basil saw Yarwan’s happiness shatter.

  ‘Those bastards!’ the captain yelled and broke into a run.

  Basil hobbled after the others, entering the storeroom last. It was immediately clear all wasn’t well. Five rough fellows in nondescript smocks nosed around, shoving and pushing, turning the neat establishment into a mess. An older woman in a dark kirtle stood to the side, her face mirroring anger and defeat. She looked at Yarwan and Basil saw the resemblance between the two.

  ‘Oh gods, boy! It’s too late,’ she cried. ‘I signed away the chandlery. They would’ve burned it down by accident if I hadn’t!’

  A young man with a round, petulant face came from behind the counter. The look he gave Yarwan made Basil’s blood boil.

  ‘There’s the fag!’ the crook said. ‘Now we’ll have some sport. We took your precious store, shirtlifter. We own it now.’ He waved a sheet of paper. ‘See? Your dear mother signed it away, faggot. Tarran Ship Chandlery is ours to play with.’ He kicked a small crate and sent handfuls of copper nails scattering across the floor. Then he smirked, still clutching the sales contract.

  ‘Wanguy!’ Yarwan’s face worked as years of pent up anger and humiliation exploded, and he dove forward. Basil felt his heart leap as Yarwan’s fist struck the jeering fellow full in the face, sending him crashing into the counter. Blood gushed from the crook’s nose and spattered all over the sales receipt in his hand. Wanguy yelled, and his mates came running with knives drawn.

  ‘Kill them!’ the crook screamed.

  ‘But Wanguy,’ one of them said. ‘Your father ...’

  The young man struggled in Yarwan’s grip. ‘Get him off me! Kill! Kill them all, or you’re fired!’ His underlings’ faces went blank as they moved in for the attack.

  Basil felt two hard hands drag him aside and the battle cry of the Kells filled the store as Maud grabbed two of the troublemakers by the front of their shirts. The muscles in her arms bulged when she lifted both men off the ground and shook them till their eyes rolled away in their heads.

  Darquine crowed and jumped onto the counter to get around Maud’s massive bulk. From there, she leaped at another man, forcing him back with her rapier till he touched the wall. The ruffian made a last, desperate move, but then her blade laid open his sword arm, and he screamed, dropping his knife.

  Jurgis whistled a Brisan tune as he knocked the fifth man down with the butt of his spear.

  Basil limped to Yarwan, who slapped Wanguy again and again, and gripped his arm.

  ‘Enough! You mustn’t kill him.’

  The captain shook his head like a dazed bull and let go of Wanguy. Blood leaked from the young crook’s nose, and one eye was black and swollen.

  ‘You’ll pay!’ Wanguy spat blood. ‘The old hag sold out! It’s my store! Mine!’ His battered face contorted with pain and humiliation. ‘I’m going to the guards! I’ll have you all arrested, hanged, broken.’

  ‘You’re a fool, Wanguy. You’ve always been a fool,’ Darquine said scathingly. ‘Selling under duress is not valid; your contract is worthless, worm.’

  ‘You can’t prove duress!’ Wanguy’s voice rose to a screech. ‘I hold the paper. My word against the old hag’s; guess whom they’ll believe.’

  ‘You hold nothing.’ Basil waved his hand, and the sales receipt burst into fire.

  Wanguy dropped it with a cry. He stamped upon the flames, but the paper burned to ashes on the floor.

  Basil gave a grim smile. ‘So much for your ownership, lowborn.’

  ‘Nicely done, twin,’ Jurgis said. He turned to Maud. ‘You’d better drop those guys, love, before they die in your hands.’

  Maud looked at the two men getting blue in the face in her grip, and with a snort of disgust she threw them through the swing doors out of the store. Angry shouts answered, followed by the sound of slaps. Then three harbor guards rushed inside with weapons drawn.

  ‘What’s going on here? Assaulting the Guard?’

  ‘Those thugs!’ Yarwan cried, still shaking with anger. ‘They came in, began bothering my mother and smashing up things. When we arrived, they attacked us, so we had to defend ourselves.’

  The harbor guard looked him up and down with an expression of distaste on his face. ‘He is the noble Hinguy’s son. What nonsense are you telling us, Yarwan?’

  The young man stood up straight. ‘Captain Yarwan,’ he snapped. ‘I command the cutter Daisee.’

  ‘The captain speaks the truth,’ Darquine said in a cold voice. ‘You guards know me. Be sure my father will hear of this.’

  ‘They attacked us.’ Basil’s voice was imperious, and flames leaked down his dragon staff. ‘I am Basil, the Spellwarden. I’m not accustomed to being treated this way.’

  ‘They were foolish men.’ Maud folded her arms across her chest and gazed at the guards. ‘You won’t be silly, and accuse a lioness of the Kell Queen of lying?’

  Jurgis opened his mouth, but then he shook his head. ‘I’ll not boast to the law of my status.’

  The three guards looked at each other. ‘You have convinced us,’ the first man said. ‘Your pardon, Mistress Darquine. Please tell your father we’re doing our duty. Wanguy, you and your men are under arrest. This little game of yours will cost your father dearly; be sure of that.’

  The bloodied young man fell silent in a daze of defeat as they dragged him away, followed by his groaning and tottering men. When the door closed behind them, Yarwan turned to his mother.

  ‘That’s done. They won’t bother you no more, Ma.’

  Darquine smiled. ‘Indeed they won’t. I’ll speak with my father about this. If those fellows try anything funny again, we’ll kick them out of business.’

  ‘Don’t let me stop you.’ Yarwan sighed. ‘Becoming a captain, beating up Wanguy.’ He touched Basil’s cheek. ‘And you. Life is looking good, all at once.’

  He took a deep breath. ‘I will arrange for the Daisee’s needs. Expect me back on board tomorrow. Here’s the list of the cargo I promised you, Darquine. It’s quite interesting.’ He handed her a folded paper.

  As the others were about to leave, he looked around the store. ‘It’s a proper mess, Ma.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter,’ his mother said. ‘You’re back and ... A captain?’

  ‘And a captain.’ Yarwan laughed. ‘I’ll tell you all about it.’

  ‘We’ll leave you to it,’ Darquine said. ‘The introductions can wait till tomorrow. We’ll go on to the Overhouse.’

  Yarwan nodded. ‘Did you say tea, Ma?’ he said, steering his mother away from the havoc.

  Basil closed the door on them and turned to the others. ‘Well,’ he said, suppressing the urge to crow.

  His brother cocked an eye at him. ‘You’re progressing, twin. He took you home to meet his mother.’

  ‘You!’ Basil punched Jurgis’ shoulder. ‘We’re not all as forward as you, brother.’ He grinned. ‘At least we’ve met one of those terrible Uys. I’m not impressed.’

  Darquine put Yarwan’s list away without looking. ‘That Wanguy was a miserable creep even as a child. His father Hinguy is a high merchant and councilor
. He’s an important man in Towne.’

  Jurgis stood inspecting his spear. ‘Those things are handy,’ he said innocently. ‘But why do they have a point? The blunt side works well enough.’

  ‘Wait till you meet a wolf. You’ll notice its use then.’ Maud gave him a playful shove that almost knocked him into the harbor.

  ‘Hey!’ the boy cried, jumping to safety.

  The lioness smiled faintly. She looked at the road, winding past the harbor up to the top of the promontory. ‘If we’re to walk to the upper town, we’d better get started.’

  ‘No!’ Basil said aghast. ‘It’s miles!’

  Maud slapped his shoulder. ‘You can do it.’

  ‘Of course he can, but we’re not going to.’ Darquine put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. A passing steamcart stopped beside with screeching brakes, its tall stack spewing clouds of smoke into the air.

  ‘Mistress Darquine,’ the lean woman on the box said and she touched her hat in greeting. ‘Hop in the back, folks. To your father’s house?’ With a jolt, the vehicle rode off.

  ‘Well,’ Jurgis said, wondering. ‘What’s pulling it? I can’t see or smell any magic.’

  Basil stared at him. ‘You’re kidding?’

  Maud laughed. ‘No, Port Brisa is a backward place. They just discovered oxen there.’

  The Spellwarden chuckled at his brother’s discomfiture. ‘I know; he’s a guttersnipe. Well, this is a steamcart, brother. It has an engine.’

  ‘Like the dirigible,’ Maud added.

  Jurgis’ face turned pink. ‘Roight. O’course. Doahn’t mind me, folks. Ah’m unused to all this ’ere newfangled things.’

  ‘Relax, young master,’ the driver said over her shoulder. ‘Not every city is as modern as Towne. Just you enjoy the ride.’

  Basil looked at the steep road crooking its way to the top of the cliff, and he shivered.

  There was a lot of traffic between the upper and lower towns. The carriage driver pulled on her whistle at every bend, a raucous blare that had the oncoming traffic scurrying aside. Without any lessening of her breakneck speed, the woman steered the big cart huffing and puffing like an ancient dragon past ox-drawn wagons, walkers and once a flock of longhorned goats.