The Bird of the River

by Kage Baker

  The city’s officials came aboard and formally thanked the Bird’s crew for their help in putting out the fire, but their faces were grim.

  Eliss, having watched them go back ashore, turned to climb the shrouds to her place at the masthead. She ran into Captain Glass, standing behind her.

  “Here.” He opened his broad hand and held out something. She looked close. Glinting in his dark palm was a little charm on a silver chain. The charm looked as though it was made of crystal, cut and polished without facets into a smooth curving shape that suggested a ripple of water, or perhaps a coiled serpent, or even a wide eye. “Wear it. You’ve earned it.”

  Eliss stared at it, dumfounded. No one had ever given her jewelry before. The captain continued to stand there before her, immobile and solid as a brick wall. Eliss looked up at him but could read no expression on his face. She took the charm and slipped the chain over her head.

  “Thank you, Captain sir.”

  “You’re welcome.” He turned away and went to his place at the tiller. Eliss looked down at the charm where it glinted on its chain. She tucked it carefully inside her tunic and climbed on up to the masthead.

  The Bird of the River moved on.

  “Hello there.”

  Eliss looked down in surprise. Krelan was climbing the shrouds, smiling up at her. He hauled himself through the hole in the platform and sat, gasping for breath.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be scrubbing pots in the galley?”

  “Mr. Pitspike is exceptionally cross today,” said Krelan. “Mr. Pitspike threw a pot of soap grease at my head and told me that if he had to look at my asinine attempt at a mustache for one more minute today he was going to suffer a collapse and spray blood from his ears. Therefore I have the afternoon off.”

  “That’s nice,” said Eliss. “I think.”

  “I’ve observed that you do,” Krelan replied. “Think, I mean. You also notice a great deal.”

  “It’s my job,” said Eliss warily.

  “Do you listen as well as you watch?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “I wonder if you have any idea why the flock of charming little girls who play with their dolls belowdecks are looking at me as though I had sprouted six-inch fangs this morning? I asked one of them if she wanted honey on her oatmeal and she burst into tears and ran howling to her mother.”

  “Oh.” Eliss kept her eyes on the river. “One of them got the idea that you’re the brother of the dead man we found below Slates Landing, and that you’re out to get revenge. And that would frighten anyone who was poor and lowborn, you see, because whenever the princes fight among themselves, some of us always end up getting killed too. My mother, for one.”

  “I see.” Krelan wrapped his arms around the railing and gazed down at the river too. “And they think I’m his brother because . . .?”

  “You’re an aristocrat. And you came on board soon after we found the dead man. But mostly because . . . because somebody noticed you had throwing knives in your bag, and told the other children.”

  “I see.” Krelan sighed. “But it wouldn’t have been you, I don’t think. You seem as though you keep secrets.”

  “It might have been me.” Eliss’s hands tightened on the rail.

  “Or it might have been your little brother, who dislikes me. For several good reasons, I suspect, so I can’t really take offense. Shall I be frank with you?”

  “You can be whatever you want. You know that.”

  “Because I’m a nobleman? But that’s just it, you see. I’m not. Actually.”

  “It’s funny how you talk just like one of them, then.”

  “That’s because I’ve been around them all my life. Please do me the favor of hearing me out, Eliss. You, of all people, deserve to know the truth.”

  “Why?”

  “Because of what happened to your mother.”

  Eliss stared down at the surface of the river. There was a sandbar, but far enough to starboard to be no danger. There was the line of bubbles that meant some big river-otter was swimming past. There to larboard was the fresh undercutting of the bank that meant the river would collapse it in that place before much longer, and then there would be rockfall or even a snag to clear away . . .

  “Go on, then.”

  “The body your people pulled out of the river belonged to Encilian Diamondcut. Have you heard of the Diamondcuts?”

  “Everybody has. They had the big vendetta going with the Fireopal family.”

  “They did. All patched up now, at least if Denissa Fireopal and Thrason Diamondcut can bear each other’s company long enough to have children. Thrason is the oldest brother, you see, the one who’s to inherit the name. He had five younger brothers. Now he has four.”

  “Because somebody killed one of them and threw his body in the river?”

  “But kept his head. That’s a deadly insult. Almost worse than simply killing him. They took a trophy. The Diamondcuts want his murder avenged, of course, but they want Lord Encilian’s head back too.”

  Eliss shuddered. “So what are you?”

  “My family has worked for the Diamondcuts for twelve generations,” said Krelan, with a sigh. “We do things for them. The sort of things that don’t get written into the chronicles or embroidered on the tapestries. It’s a very old and honorable profession, you see, we’re quite rich as a consequence and we’re almost a sort of shadow-nobility ourselves . . . only not really.

  “Now I’m going to speak blasphemy, or at least my family would call it that. Encilian was a lesser son. He was weak, he was lazy, and he didn’t care about his Family’s honor or anything but enjoying himself. He lied. He stole things. He ran up debts. Nobody was all that sorry, or surprised either, to learn he’d been killed. But he was a Diamondcut.

  “I’m a lesser son, myself. Not because of extravagant vices, I hasten to add! No. I’m my father’s younger son by his second wife. My older brother inherited the name and half the property. He looks like a hawk, whereas I look like some sort of starved duck with mange. He’s already taken a wife and produced twin baby boys, whereas I can barely get a girl to give me the time of day. He can lift a caravan cart on his back, whereas I . . . but you get the idea.

  “When Encilian’s body was found, old Lord Diamondcut summoned my brother. The matter was discussed. It was decided that I would be sent upriver to investigate Encilian’s murder. I am to reclaim his head, if I can. I am to see to it that he is suitably avenged, once I know who killed him. If I can do that, I’ll be avenging your mother too since whoever killed my master’s son was indirectly responsible for her death. So we have a common cause, you see.”

  Eliss shook her head. “People like us aren’t avenged when we die. We don’t matter to anyone. You don’t know much about the world.”

  “Not as much as I thought I did,” said Krelan. “Not now I’m out in it. I’d be grateful for your help, Eliss.”

  Eliss gave an unbelieving snort. “What do you think I can do?”

  “Keep my secrets,” said Krelan. “It’s hard to be discreet when you’re scaring little girls. Maybe you could pass the word that I have those knives because my family thought I wasn’t worth buying a sword for? Which is true, by the way.”

  “I can do that,” said Eliss. She took her eyes from the river long enough to give him a considering glance. “So . . . if you’re not actually a nobleman, what really happened at the Lake?”

  “The Lake. I wish I knew.” Krelan rubbed his side where the gash was a puckering scar. “I went over there to ask a few questions. Had anyone seen Lord Encilian in the last year? I asked after him by name, and I think that might have been a mistake. Generally I’ve been showing people his portrait, but I assumed that in Prayna there’d be no need. The Diamondcuts were well known to the Agatines.

  “I went to the sorts of places he frequented—they exist even in Prayna—and asked whether he’d been seen there.”

  “You don’t think that was a little stupid?”

&
nbsp; Krelan looked reproachful. “I didn’t just ask. There are certain signs one gives, making inquiries. Certain signals of the trade.”

  “What trade?”

  “My family’s trade.”

  “Oh.”

  “And my informant, whom I’d thought was trustworthy, arranged for me to meet someone after dark, who supposedly knew something about Encilian’s murderer. I went to the place we’d agreed upon and walked straight into a trap. The rest of the story is essentially true as I told it.”

  “Essentially?”

  “It means, true in essence.”

  “I know what the word means, thank you. What parts were different?”

  Krelan raised his eyebrows. “Shrewd, aren’t you? Well . . . I defended myself rather more effectively than I told Mr. Riveter.”

  “Did you kill somebody?”

  “. . . I might have.”

  “Because if you didn’t, and whoever tried to kill you got away, they’ll be looking for you. And once they get done looking for you in Prayna, they just might come across the lake and start asking questions at Moonport.”

  After a moment’s thoughtful silence, Krelan said, “You know rather a lot about this sort of thing, don’t you?”

  “I had a few uncles who were in gangs,” Eliss replied. She made a face. “Not that they were really my uncles. Anyway, what if someone from Moonport tells them you left to go upriver on the Bird?”

  “That would present a problem,” admitted Krelan. “But, no. Take my word for it that no one was capable of following me across the Lake, all right?”

  “All right. But you still don’t know why someone who knew your ‘trade signals’ set you up to be killed. Do you?”

  “No,” said Krelan unhappily. “No, I don’t. What awkward questions you do ask, young lady. Mind you, I’d rather be told a venomous spider was crawling on my sleeve than have someone fail to mention it out of a desire to spare my feelings.”

  “There you are, then.” Eliss stared very hard at a pattern of ripples and decided they did not signify a submerged unmarked snag. “So . . . was your nasty lordship still alive as far as Bluestone?”

  “It would appear he was,” said Krelan.

  “Hmmm.” Eliss’s gaze wandered to the deck below. She was a little startled to see Alder staring up at her, frowning.

  “People shouldn’t climb up there and bother you when you’re working,” said Alder that night when they had rolled up in their blankets.

  “What, Krelan? He wasn’t bothering me.” Eliss turned over and stared at the back of Alder’s head.

  “You were talking with him an awfully long time,” Alder said, not turning around.

  “Look . . .” Eliss gazed up at the roof of the tent. She put up her hand and traced the charm Captain Glass had given her, smooth and cool on its silver chain. “Look. I’m growing up. Boys are going to be talking to me. That’s the way it is even with normal families who stay in one place. Girls grow up and they start spending time with boys. I’m going to. It doesn’t mean I’m going to do stupid things. I’m not. But I like Krelan. He’s smart.”

  “He’s dangerous.”

  Eliss nodded in the dark. “I think he is, yes. But we’re just friends. You don’t remember Uncle Ironbolt. He was before you were born. He was dangerous too, but he was nice. He was good to Mama. He took care of us, until he got killed.”

  “Was he in a gang?”

  “He ran a gang. I think. He had a lot of money.”

  “And Mama loved him,” Alder stated, with an air of resignation. “Stupid.”

  “Actually . . .” Eliss fell silent as a memory suddenly shuttled out of the dead past. Staring into the darkness with wide eyes, she saw Falena again—so young!—crouching beside her bed, whispering. Of course I don’t love him, I could never love anybody but your daddy. Half my heart died with Daddy. But Uncle Ironbolt has been very kind to us, Eliss. Don’t you like this big house, all these toys? I can’t protect you by myself but he can protect both of us.

  “Eliss, I have to protect you now,” said Alder, sounding as though he was about to cry. “And if you’re going to fall in love with people who aren’t safe . . . and nobody’s safe, I never saw that before but it’s true, the Children of the Sun are just crazy, fighting and killing all the time! And what am I supposed to do?” His voice broke on a sob.

  “That’s Mr. Moss making you think that we’re all evil!”

  “It isn’t! I always thought that. Not that you’re evil, just . . . crazy. And I never understood why. And I always wondered why nobody else was like me. And then I found out my people are. So I’m trying to be one of them. And one of the things I have to do is keep you safe. Because the Yendri don’t beat up their ladies.”

  “Nobody’s going to beat me up,” said Eliss grimly. “Nobody ever. And nobody has to protect me. I can protect myself. I always have.” She turned on her side and put her arm around Alder. “Listen to me. You’re only ten. You shouldn’t have to worry about things like this yet.”

  “You did, when you were ten. And littler. I remember. You were always looking out for a place for me to sleep and carrying me when I was tired and telling me not to be scared. And if I let you get hurt now, what good am I?”

  “I won’t be hurt,” said Eliss, hugging him. “I promise. And, and now we live on the river, you can see other Yendri a lot more and learn more about them, and everything will be fine. Come on. Things will be all right. We have a place to sleep.”

  Alder was silent so long she thought he might have forgotten, but at last he answered. “We have a place to sleep and a warm blanket each.”

  “We have a place to sleep, and a warm blanket each, and we had dinner tonight.”

  “We have a place to sleep each, and a warm blanket each, and had dinner tonight, and we’ll have breakfast tomorrow.”

  “And who knows what, when summer comes?”

  “And who knows what, when summer comes? And summer is coming soon.”

  The next town up the river was Forge, and it was a holy place.

  Eliss watched in awe as its crumbling towers became visible through the trees. She had never seen buildings so old. There on a ridge was the scar where the ore seam had been worked out, but green had softened the cut lines, and young trees and ferns screened the derelict workings. Below was the town, only a hostel for pilgrims and a tavern now, and the Forge itself.

  The Bird of the River docked at the old stone quay. Eliss climbed down and looked around uncertainly. Families were clustering together on the deck, here and there, with children fidgeting in their best clothes and mothers fussing over them. She spotted the Riveters and struggled through the crowd to them. As she approached, she saw Mr. Riveter put something in Wolkin’s hands.

  “Now, hold on to it, and be respectful,” Mr. Riveter admonished. Wolkin nodded, his eyes wide. Eliss saw that he was holding a piece of tin cut from one flat sheet of metal, flat figures holding hands: a man, a woman, a boy, a girl. It was supposed to be iron, but any metal was acceptable from poor people. Eliss felt a pang: her family had finally come to the Forge, and she had no offering.

  She looked around for Alder. He had retreated to the aft deck, keeping himself aloof from the crowd. Before she could start toward him, Wolkin ran weaving through the throng and shouted up to him: “Alder! Come on! We’re going to the Forge!”

  “I don’t belong there,” Alder said. Eliss clenched her fists.

  Wolkin gaped at him a moment before yelling, “Well, but there’s big trees! Come on! And there’s a man who can juggle fireballs!”

  That was enough to persuade Alder, who scrambled down and ran off with Wolkin. Eliss stood alone.

  “Aren’t you going ashore?” said someone at her elbow. She turned and saw Krelan.

  “I don’t have an offering.”

  “You can buy them there,” said Krelan. “Look, will you go with me? If somebody’s looking for me, they’ll be looking for me alone. If we look like a couple, I’m sort of di
sguised.”

  “All right.” Anything was better than staying behind, conspicuously alone. Krelan took her arm and steered her toward the gangplank, where people were crowded together, waiting to disembark. Eliss saw Mrs. Riveter looking around searchingly; her gaze settled at last on Eliss and Krelan.

  “Eliss, have you got an offering?” she called.

  “We’re going to buy ours,” said Krelan. Mrs. Riveter looked pleased. She nudged Mr. Riveter and murmured something in his ear.

  Jostling Eliss were the musicians, each of whom had a cut-tin representation of an instrument in his hands. She remembered now hearing the commotion as shapes were cut from the metal sheet with hammers and chisels; if she’d thought to ask, somebody probably would have cut out an offering for her too. But what would I have to offer?

  They stepped ashore at last. Most of the crew headed straight for the Forge, but Krelan tugged at her arm and they walked away in the direction of the tavern. Eliss looked around. It wasn’t at all what she had expected. Moss grew on the slate roofs of the buildings, and trailed from the branches of gnarled trees. Almost it seemed more like a Yendri place, except for the smell of the Forge and the distant ringing on its anvil. And a certain quality in the air . . . there was a heaviness, the way things felt just before a thunderstorm. The tiny hairs along Eliss’s arms, and on the back of her neck, rose. In under the trees, the light seemed filtered and dim, almost like dusk, and the firepit in the yard of the tavern glowed out bright.

  “So many trees,” she murmured, half to herself. Krelan turned to look at her, bright-eyed.

  “You’ve never been here before?”

  “No.”

  “Come on. I’ll show you something.” He led her to a great tree that overhung the tavern yard. Firelight flickered on its trunk, gleaming on the places where the boles had been rubbed smooth by the passage of people entering the yard. Grinning, Krelan took a knife from inside his boot. He tapped on the trunk with his blade, producing a metallic ting-ting.