by Ian Irvine
“Is that so?” said Kroni.
“Yes. He carries Axil Grandys’ enchanted sword.”
“He carries Maloch?”
“You know the name of his sword?”
“I like to read. It’s in the history books. What was your reward?”
“The chancellor’s spectible.”
“He gave you his spectible?”
“I did him a mighty favour. Besides, his chief magian couldn’t use it.”
“And you can, I assume? What did you want it for?”
“To try and get control of my magery —”
“All right, I’ve heard enough. Come on.” He jerked her to her feet.
“Where are we going?”
He pointed to the cabin boat they had been sheltering behind. It was about thirty feet long, with a small deck in front of the little cabin and a larger deck behind it with a tall mast in the middle.
“Get in.”
“You’re… going out to sea?”
“Why else would I have come this way? What’s the matter?”
“I’m afraid… of the water,” she said quietly.
“More afraid than you are of them? Get in!”
“Hoy! You! Stop right there.” The leading group on the boardwalk, five or six of them, broke into a run.
Kroni threw Tali over the rail, cast off the mooring ropes fore and aft, and leapt nimbly in. The boat began to drift seawards with the wind, which was blowing down from the mountains. He unfurled a scrap of sail then ran into the cabin to the wheel. He spun it and the boat heeled over.
But it was still moving slowly and the guards were hurtling down the boardwalk. The gap between the boat and the pier was only three feet, four, five. Still an easy leap. Six feet… seven… eight – a difficult jump now, but possible.
The guards hurtled up. Ten feet… twelve. They skidded to a stop at the end of the pier, screaming abuse, for the gap was now beyond any man to jump. Fifteen feet… twenty. Kroni left the wheel and hauled on ropes, trimming the sail. It caught the wind and shot down the channel into the bay, and she was safe. From immediate pursuit, at least. Though not from the water, and perhaps not from Kroni either.
“Come in out of the wind,” said Kroni.
She followed him into the cabin. It was about six feet by eight, beautifully built from honey-coloured timber that had been polished until it shone and coated with layers of varnish. There was a large round window forward, small portholes to either side and a sliding door onto the rear deck.
Bench seats ran along the left side and the rear, to the door, and there was a small fixed table in the corner in front of the seats. A low door, latched open, led to a square hatch and a ladder that ran down into a lower cabin, or perhaps the hold. She couldn’t tell; it was dark down there.
“Anything else you want to tell me?” said Kroni, gesturing to the seats.
“Don’t think so.” Tali sat, wanting to lie down and close her eyes and not move for a week. “What about you, Kroni?”
“Kroni,” he said, smiling. “That takes me back. I really am a clockmaker, you know. A good one, though you may think me boastful for saying it. You would have realised that Kroni was a pseudonym. My name is Holm.”
“Holm what?”
“It’ll do for the time being.”
“Whose boat is this?”
“Mine. I built it twenty years ago.”
“So you’re also a master boat builder?”
“I dabble.”
“What do you want me for?”
“Youth of today!” he sighed theatrically. “So suspicious. I don’t want you for anything.”
“Everyone I’ve ever met wanted something from me… except Tobry.” Tears welled and she turned away hastily.
He adjusted the pocket handkerchief sail and returned to the wheel. “The only Tobry I’ve heard of came from the fallen House of Lagger.”
She nodded. She could not trust herself to speak.
“And?” he prompted.
She told the bitter story in as few words as possible.
“And you had feelings for him?” said Holm.
“I didn’t plan to.”
“Does anyone ever plan to have feelings for another person?” he asked mildly.
Tali felt a fool. “I swore to gain justice for my murdered mother. I didn’t have time for anything else…”
“But those treacherous feelings crept up on you anyway?” Holm was smirking now.
“I was too busy. I was on a quest.”
“So you denied your own feelings.”
“All right! Yes, I loved Tobry,” she said, sniffling. “But I didn’t realise it until it was too late.”
“I’m sorry.”
She did not want his sorrow or his pity. She wiped her eyes. “Where are you taking me?”
“Won’t know until we get out through the heads.”
“Why not?”
“Depends what we see. It’s been weeks since I was out on the open sea. Things change rapidly at this time of year.”
“Which way do you want to go?”
“North towards Bleddimire, of course.”
“Why there?” said Tali.
“It’s warmer, safer and further from the enemy.”
“What if you can’t go north?”
“Not west. There’s solid ice for a thousand miles.”
“South?”
“I hope not. Too much pack ice. Get some rest.”
She shivered. “Have you got a spare coat?”
He took a heavy, fur-lined coat from a long, narrow compartment and handed it to her. Tali wrapped it around herself. He closed the cabin door. She hunched in the corner of the two bench seats, behind the table, braced herself against the rolling and closed her eyes, hoping for sleep.
It did not come, and she knew why. She was in a tiny, flimsy piece of wood, on the vast and endless sea, and if anything went wrong she was going to drown. She had nearly drowned once, crossing a lake in the Seethings with Rix and Tobry, and it had left her with a terror of water.
Time drifted; she could not have told whether ten minutes had passed, or an hour. Then suddenly the movement of the vessel changed. Instead of rolling gently it was pitching up and down, as well as rocking back and forth in plank-creaking jerks that kept hurling her off her seat.
She became aware of the wind whistling through the lines and shaking the boat violently. Occasionally a gust would heel it over until the rail almost broke the sea and all she could see were enormous, foaming waves rolling towards them in every direction. They were passing through the heads, out into the open sea.
“Coming up for a bit of weather,” Holm said laconically.
The boat righted itself. They passed out through the heads. The wind howled and hurled rain at them like solid pellets. The waves out here seemed twice as high as before. Holm turned north. They crested a wave bigger than any they had encountered before. The wind flung them over, the boat righted itself like a cork, and ahead, covering the sea from east to west, Tali saw it.
A wall of ice, hundreds of feet high.
“Guess we’re not going north after all,” said Holm.
CHAPTER 20
“What are you doing?” said Tali. “Where are you taking me?”
Kroni did not answer. She tried to dredge up her magery, anything at all, but exhaustion would not allow her to focus.
He dragged her into the shadows between two storerooms, then out onto the seaward side of the docks, down twenty steps and onto the boardwalk that led to the distant boats and the sea. Before they had gone a hundred yards the riders clattered onto the docks, shining their lanterns about and roaring at one another.
“Don’t move.” Kroni pulled her down onto the boards and cast a grey cloak over them both. “Don’t look towards the lanterns.”
From the corner of an eye she saw a tall fellow come to the top of the steps and shine his lantern along the boardwalk. It cast a bright light and she was sure it would pick them out.
He waved it back and forth, evidently watching for moving shadows, then turned away.
Tali was about to stand up when Kroni crushed her shoulder. His fingers were hard as brass. “I said, don’t move!”
The tall man turned suddenly and shone his lantern down the boardwalk again. Tali’s heart slammed into her ribs. He would have seen her. He studied the boardwalk, the mudflats on the left and the marshlands to the right, then turned back to the search of the docks.
“Now,” said Kroni.
He heaved her to her feet and led her down towards the sea. She stumbled; his arm went around her shoulders and held her up.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“Lost too much blood,” she said limply. “Hardly stand up.”
His arm curled around her waist, taking most of her weight, and he hurried on.
“Where you taking me?” she panted.
“Depends on the answers you give me.”
“What answers?”
“Good ones.”
“You – a spy for Lyf?” gasped Tali. “You – working for Lyf?”
He gave a derisory snort.
“Who then?”
When he did not reply, a cold fist clenched around her heart. Kroni must be a privateer, and she was worth a fortune. He had been watching her for ages, and now he was planning to carry her away and sell her to the highest bidder. How much would Lyf pay to be delivered the host of the master pearl? What would the chancellor give? Enough to corrupt almost any man.
She tried to pull free. Even if she fell off into the marsh and drowned it would be better than having her head hacked open while she was still alive. If she drowned, she would thwart them all. The pearl had to be harvested from a live host.
“Don’t!” said Kroni, holding her easily.
In another five minutes she heard water lapping and the boardwalk ended in a T shape, running to left and right beside ragged lines of piles driven into the mud. Several boats were moored there and the reek of fishy water in the bilges took her breath away.
He hauled her to the left, then along a series of slimy, algae-covered planks to three pairs of piles where a number of smaller boats were tied up. He thrust her down in the shadows between two boats. It was exposed here, and an icy wind was blowing across the water, stirring her short hair.
He glanced back towards the main boardwalk. “They’re coming, and I need answers, fast. What’s your name? Your real name?”
Could she trust him? Could she trust anyone? She didn’t know anything about Kroni – he might be a privateer, or he might, possibly, be genuine. On the other hand, she knew what the chancellor would do if he got her back.
“There’s no time left,” said Kroni, and she could hear the urgency in his voice.
If she went with him, it would buy her time, at least. “It’s Tali,” she burst out. “Thalalie vi Torgrist.”
He whistled. “You’re the escaped Pale?”
“Yes.”
“But what are you – patriot or traitor?”
“I love my country,” said Tali.
“Which one?” he said roughly. “Hightspall or Cython?”
“Hightspall, of course. What do you take me for?”
“I haven’t decided, though the chancellor did imprison you, and the word in Fortress Rutherin names you a traitor.”
“He spread that lie to conceal me from my enemies. You saw how Lizue tried to kill me.”
“Kill you?” said Kroni. “The way I read the evidence, she tried to save you from the sour fellow in the other cell.”
“No; Lizue’s Cythonian. She burned through the bars and tried to kill me. The Sullen Man is – was – the chancellor’s spy. He tried to save my life, and died for it.”
“She didn’t look Cythonian,” said Kroni.
“She does now. The glamour on her broke at the same time as the one the chief magian put on me.”
“The Cythonians don’t use magery.”
“But Lyf does.”
“How would you know that?”
“Because I’ve met him. Fought him.”
“Now I know you’re lying. You’re just a slip of a girl —”
Tali’s fury gave her strength. “I’m the first Pale to escape Cython in a thousand years,” she snapped. “I’ve been to the wrythen’s caverns under Precipitous Crag, I’ve jousted verbally with the chancellor himself and given as good as I got. And he rewarded me, too —”
She was getting into dangerous waters. Old Kroni had a remarkably keen mind for a clock mechanic, and there were certain questions she didn’t want raised at any price.
“Really?” said Kroni. “What for?”
“Mind your own business.”
He glanced along the boardwalk. “You’ve got one minute to satisfy me that you’re on our side. If you can’t, I’ll give you up to the chancellor.”
“And pocket a fat reward,” she said bitterly.
“Should I not be rewarded for capturing such a valuable and elusive spy and traitor?” he said mildly. “Why did the chancellor reward you, incidentally?”
She did not think Kroni was much better than her pursuers, but he was the only hope she had. And the searchers were getting closer; she could see their lights clearly now.
“I told him that Lady and Lord Ricinus were planning his assassination.”
He let out a low whistle. She’d surprised him.
“I understood that Rix Ricinus informed on his mother for high treason,” said Kroni, “and that’s why the chancellor refused to have him.”
“He forced it out of Rix; but the chancellor already knew, because I’d told him the day before. But he’s a vengeful man; that’s why he hacked Rix’s hand off with his own sword. And because Rix is Herovian.”
“Is that so?” said Kroni.
“Yes. He carries Axil Grandys’ enchanted sword.”
“He carries Maloch?”
“You know the name of his sword?”
“I like to read. It’s in the history books. What was your reward?”
“The chancellor’s spectible.”
“He gave you his spectible?”
“I did him a mighty favour. Besides, his chief magian couldn’t use it.”
“And you can, I assume? What did you want it for?”
“To try and get control of my magery —”
“All right, I’ve heard enough. Come on.” He jerked her to her feet.
“Where are we going?”
He pointed to the cabin boat they had been sheltering behind. It was about thirty feet long, with a small deck in front of the little cabin and a larger deck behind it with a tall mast in the middle.
“Get in.”
“You’re… going out to sea?”
“Why else would I have come this way? What’s the matter?”
“I’m afraid… of the water,” she said quietly.
“More afraid than you are of them? Get in!”
“Hoy! You! Stop right there.” The leading group on the boardwalk, five or six of them, broke into a run.
Kroni threw Tali over the rail, cast off the mooring ropes fore and aft, and leapt nimbly in. The boat began to drift seawards with the wind, which was blowing down from the mountains. He unfurled a scrap of sail then ran into the cabin to the wheel. He spun it and the boat heeled over.
But it was still moving slowly and the guards were hurtling down the boardwalk. The gap between the boat and the pier was only three feet, four, five. Still an easy leap. Six feet… seven… eight – a difficult jump now, but possible.
The guards hurtled up. Ten feet… twelve. They skidded to a stop at the end of the pier, screaming abuse, for the gap was now beyond any man to jump. Fifteen feet… twenty. Kroni left the wheel and hauled on ropes, trimming the sail. It caught the wind and shot down the channel into the bay, and she was safe. From immediate pursuit, at least. Though not from the water, and perhaps not from Kroni either.
“Come in out of the wind,” said Kroni.
&nb
sp; She followed him into the cabin. It was about six feet by eight, beautifully built from honey-coloured timber that had been polished until it shone and coated with layers of varnish. There was a large round window forward, small portholes to either side and a sliding door onto the rear deck.
Bench seats ran along the left side and the rear, to the door, and there was a small fixed table in the corner in front of the seats. A low door, latched open, led to a square hatch and a ladder that ran down into a lower cabin, or perhaps the hold. She couldn’t tell; it was dark down there.
“Anything else you want to tell me?” said Kroni, gesturing to the seats.
“Don’t think so.” Tali sat, wanting to lie down and close her eyes and not move for a week. “What about you, Kroni?”
“Kroni,” he said, smiling. “That takes me back. I really am a clockmaker, you know. A good one, though you may think me boastful for saying it. You would have realised that Kroni was a pseudonym. My name is Holm.”
“Holm what?”
“It’ll do for the time being.”
“Whose boat is this?”
“Mine. I built it twenty years ago.”
“So you’re also a master boat builder?”
“I dabble.”
“What do you want me for?”
“Youth of today!” he sighed theatrically. “So suspicious. I don’t want you for anything.”
“Everyone I’ve ever met wanted something from me… except Tobry.” Tears welled and she turned away hastily.
He adjusted the pocket handkerchief sail and returned to the wheel. “The only Tobry I’ve heard of came from the fallen House of Lagger.”
She nodded. She could not trust herself to speak.
“And?” he prompted.
She told the bitter story in as few words as possible.
“And you had feelings for him?” said Holm.
“I didn’t plan to.”
“Does anyone ever plan to have feelings for another person?” he asked mildly.
Tali felt a fool. “I swore to gain justice for my murdered mother. I didn’t have time for anything else…”
“But those treacherous feelings crept up on you anyway?” Holm was smirking now.
