by Rob Scott
‘No one sent me,’ Brexan said. ‘I came on my own.’
‘An honest answer? Or are you just softening me up? That tunic isn’t nearly as flattering as the one you were wearing when you asked me to take you on this little pleasure-cruise.’
‘I didn’t lie.’
‘But you didn’t tell the whole truth, did you?’ Captain Ford leaned forward, then relaxed back into his chair. He had been taken for a fool; now he wanted to salvage what dignity he could. ‘What’s happening in Averil, Brexan?’
‘I can’t-’
‘Or are we not really bound for Averil?’ He saw her involuntary reaction and sighed. ‘Rutting whores, that’s it.’ He poured the beer. ‘You want one?’
‘No, th-’ She paused. ‘Actually, yes, why not?’
‘Have a seat,’ he said politely. ‘We can discuss our destination.’
‘They meant to tell you,’ she said. ‘I was just coming to apologise. I didn’t want you to think-’
‘Well, I’m thinking it. So you can take what little conscience you think you have and toss it over the side. What do you do for the Resistance? I know you’re not a scullery-maid. And was the old lady, Nedra, in this with you, or is she the reason you’re trying to salvage your self-esteem?’
‘I’m a… a spy, I suppose,’ Brexan confessed, ‘and yes, Nedra’s one of the reasons I came to talk to you.’
He was shocked at her admission, but he wasn’t sure what he meant to do about it. ‘You must not be much of a spy; I don’t know of many spies who go around admitting it’s their job.’
Brexan half-grinned. ‘No, I’m not a very good spy, but you should have seen me in the beginning. I was downright wretched.’
Captain Ford didn’t join her in celebrating the thimbleful of honesty. ‘So where are we bound?’
‘Averil, if you insist. I can talk them into it. I know I can.’ Garec’s words came back to her: If a guilty conscience and the loss of their trust is all we have to suffer from here on in, then I’m all for it. There’s much, much worse waiting for us in Malakasia.
‘Don’t do that.’ Captain Ford was angry. ‘Don’t try to make amends now. Where are we bound?’
She hung her head, remembered Garec again, and forced herself to look the captain in the eye. ‘Pellia,’ she said quietly.
‘Pellia!’ Now he leapt to his feet again, shouting, ‘Pellia? You’re joking, aren’t you? Why not just sail upriver to Welstar Palace? I can hear the Malakasians manning the blockade already – they have one, you know, a gods-whoring net as tight as my uncle’s arsehole. “Where are you bound, Captain Ford?” “I’m bound for Pellia, sir.” “What are you shipping, Captain Ford?” “Oh, nothing!”.’ He was raging as he spat out the little scenarios. ‘And that’s where the road ends, Brexan, in case you were wondering where and how your life would unfold over the next two hundred Twinmoons. Nope. It ends right at that exact moment. And not just yours, but mine, Garec’s – well, thank the gods of the Northern Forest for that one – and the rest of us. We’ll all be taken prisoner and escorted into the blackest, most foul-smelling nightmare of a pit you’ve ever imagined.’
‘It’s important,’ Brexan said quietly.
‘I knew you were going say that. Of course, you think it’s important. You wouldn’t be sitting here with your guilty heart bleeding all over my charts if you thought it was a “daisy-run”. But let me share a secret with you: It’s not important to me or my crew!’
‘Actually, it is,’ she said, trying not to sound as desperate as she was. ‘Your life depends on it – all our lives depend on it. Without this trip, we will all die.’
‘We’re going to die up there anyway.’
‘Not just us,’ Brexan shouted, ‘all of us, every single person in Eldarn, everyone! That means your wife and family as well.’
Captain Ford lunged across the table and took her by the throat. ‘Don’t you dare mention my family, Brexan Carderic, not ever. Do you understand, spy?’ He spat out the word as if it were an obscenity.
‘They’re all going to die,’ she repeated, her eyes watering and her face flushing red. ‘I’m sorry.’
Trembling, Ford let her go, gulped the rest of his beer and rooted in the crate for a fifth. ‘Tell me-’ His voice was shaking; he took a long swallow before continuing, ‘Tell me how we’re all going to die.’
Brexan fell into her seat, gulped a mouthful herself and rubbed feeling back into her neck. Wiping tears from her face, she said, ‘The three frigates that shipped north from Orindale, you remember them?’
‘Apart from the naval cruisers, they were the only ships in the harbour left untouched by the storm.’
‘They’re shipping a stolen Larion artefact, something with the power to open the Fold and usher into Eldarn an evil so destructive that we will all be killed in an instant, or, worse still, enslaved forever in a foul, never-ending nightmare.’
‘Larion?’ he said, disbelieving.
‘It’s true, and the two men we picked up this morning have the power to destroy it and kill the man who’s stolen it. They can’t defeat him if the artefact is in operation; they don’t believe they could even get near it, but if we can arrive in Pellia before those frigates, Steven and Gilmour could be at the wharf when the stone table is transferred.’
‘And kill the thief before he has an opportunity to begin using this artefact?’
‘Exactly.’
‘So your friends, these magicians, are on their way to Pellia to kill another sorcerer?’
‘Yes.’ Brexan didn’t see any point in confusing the situation by telling him Steven was determined to save Mark Jenkins.
‘And all we have to do is to reach Pellia and get through the blockade with no cargo and no reason for being there so that your boys can be on the wharf when three ships carrying what looks to be a whole division of Prince Malagon’s soldiers pulls into port.’
‘That’s it.’
‘Have you forgotten that they left before we did? They have a significant head-start.’ Captain Ford had calmed enough to return to his supper and finished another mouthful before asking, ‘How will we get past them? The Northeast Channel is a rutting highway this Twinmoon. We’ll be held up just by the amount of traffic running through there, that’s if we get there in time to catch the northern tides. And while we might be able to put on all sorts of sail and run the channel faster than most other ships heading north, bullying our way through the archipelago is just another way to draw the attention of the Malakasian navy. It won’t fly, Brexan.’
‘It will if you hug the coast and skip the Northeast Channel.’
Captain Ford laughed, a great burst of genuine disbelief. ‘Oh, that’s a much better option,’ he said, almost choking. ‘You’ll avoid the edge of the blockade right enough, but Brexan, a rowboat can’t get through that way. We’ll be kedging off every mud flat and rock formation the gods saw fit to sprinkle along that coastline. Have you ever kedged off in a brig-sloop? I know it isn’t a very big boat, but hauling it over a sandbar, even with the capstan and the anchor-line, you realise it’s a touch heavy. And during this Twinmoon, the water is quite cold. So scurrying about out there in all that nasty mud, we’re bound to catch a sniffle or two.’ He shifted in his chair. ‘You’re talking about suicide.’
‘I’m talking about the end of life in Eldarn as we know it,’ she said, deadly serious.
If nothing else, she obviously believes wholeheartedly in what she was doing, he thought. ‘You lied to me.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I liked you.’
‘I hope you might again some day.’
‘If I refuse, Garec will kill me and take the ship?’
‘He probably won’t kill you, but they will take the ship.’
‘You lied to me.’
‘You said that, and I’m sorry.’
Captain Ford sighed, letting his shoulders slump. He was tired and frightened. Considering Brexan in the lamplight, he said, ‘I’ve never been
anything but… My wife and I are…’
Brexan closed the door latch; it slipped noisily into place: warped wood on warped wood. Turning to him, she pursed her lips and unfastened her tunic belt.
‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘I don’t need your sympathy, and as much as I might need your… company, I don’t want it. I want to-’
‘What do you want?’ she asked as she went on removing her clothes.
‘I want you to go.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’ It was hard for him to say. ‘You don’t want this, and if you don’t want this, I certainly don’t want this.’
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
You’re going to die, Brexan. Don’t thank me. I’d just as soon wear about, drop you with Nedra and make way, empty, for Southport and my family. This whole thing makes me want to run and hide.’
She buckled her tunic belt and finished her beer. ‘There is no place to hide.’
Captain Ford closed his eyes; it was easier if he didn’t have to look at her.
‘And I’ll make you a promise, not as a spy or a partisan or whatever you think I am, but as a scullery-maid and a friend of Nedra Daubert. I won’t lie to you again. It isn’t much, especially now, but I’ll be straight with you, about anything you ask.’
‘Do you find me attractive?’ Captain Ford murmured, unsure why he had asked, but hoping that perhaps chasing his emotions into this business might not have been an old man’s folly.
‘Yes.’
‘Do you want to sleep with me?’
Now Brexan sighed. ‘No, but I will.’
‘Very well then.’ He ushered her to the door. ‘Thank you. You can tell the others we’ll make for Pellia.’
‘Thank you, Captain.’
‘Again, I don’t want you-’
Marrin Stonnel crashed through the hatch, catching his foot on the doorframe and tumbling to the deck. ‘Captain,’ he cried, frantic, shaking.
‘What is it, Marrin?’ Captain Ford’s demeanour changed in a heartbeat as he became again the man he had been before Brexan’s unexpected visit.
‘A ship, northwest of us, was running off the wind, but she must have caught sight of something, because she’s just jibed to cut us off.’
‘Horsecocks!’ Captain Ford pushed past Brexan into the companionway, giving orders as he went. ‘It’s probably a naval cutter, or a schooner, maybe. If they’re running full, it’ll be a close race. Douse every flame, every light, and dump a bucket over the galley brazier.’
‘The coals, Captain?’
‘We’re upwind, Marrin; we don’t want them smelling smoke.’ Ford paused at the hatch, briefly making eye-contact with Brexan. ‘I want us in the dark, as dark as you can make it. And no smoking, no leftover food, nothing. Make our course due west; I want us running for the Pragan coast like a shadow. We’ll heel to the bloody scuppers on this beam reach, but we need to be hull-down by dawn. With luck they’ll think we doused the lights to make a run past them to the north. This wind is tempting; lots of captains would try it.’
‘But we’ll turn west?’
‘Right,’ Ford said, ‘and even if they catch sight of us at sunrise, we’ll come about and put on every bit of sheet we’ve got and make a sprint up the Pragan coast. Now I need to talk to these sorcerers.’
THE NAVAL CUTTER
Steven heard the hollow thud of someone running on deck. ‘What’s that?’
‘Probably the captain,’ Garec said.
‘Captains don’t run,’ Gilmour said. ‘It instils too much fear and excitement in the crew, makes them jumpy.’
‘You don’t know this one,’ Garec said. ‘He’s not your ordinary merchant captain. With him, when it’s time to run, he runs. Ouch!’ He flinched as Kellin extricated another stitch.
The forward cabin was lit with all the candles they could find so Kellin could see what she was doing. She was just halfway through when Captain Ford barged in, pausing on the threshold to make sure none of his crew were within earshot. ‘Are you two truly sorcerers?’ he asked, a little out of breath.
Gilmour answered, ‘I wouldn’t say that we’re sor-’
‘No time for lies, my friend,’ the captain interrupted. ‘We’ve got a naval cutter, very fast, tacking to overtake us. We’re quick, especially running empty, but we’re not quick enough to get past them without a fight.’
Steven started, ‘We can perhaps-’
‘Let me finish,’ he went on. ‘I’ve ordered the ship about. We’ll make a run for the Pragan coast.’
‘West?’ Garec asked, stopping Kellin as she started on the next stitch. There would be time for that later.
‘It’s a difficult tack, granted, and the wind will carry us northwest, but the cutter’s on the same wind so even if he sets a course across our current heading, he’ll be carried to the northeast, towards Falkan. So we put out all the watch-fires and run on a beam reach in the dark. My goal is to be hull-down on their horizon by morning. If we’re lucky it’ll be hazy. If we’re blessed by the gods, there’ll be fog.’
‘So what do you need from us?’ Garec said.
How much power do you have? Are you truly sorcerers?’ he asked. ‘Time’s wasting and I need to know. One of you ignited those fireballs in the sky this morning.’
Steven looked at Gilmour and shrugged. ‘Captain Ford, both Gilmour and I could easily sink that ship from here if we chose to.’
He blanched. That was obviously more honesty – and more formidable power – than he had expected from them. ‘Oh,’ he murmured, ‘well then-’
‘But we can’t.’
‘Why not?’ Ford asked, now completely bemused. ‘Do you know what they’ll do if they catch us running empty through the Narrows, obviously trying to escape?’
‘Impound your ship?’ Garec said.
‘And lock us in the brig, at the very least, and that’s if we’re lucky. I could tell them we’re making for Averil, but I don’t have a cargo to pick up there, and I’m not about to admit that I’m shipping five passengers, none of whom are Malakasian and none of whom have any business links to anyone in Averil.’
‘So you know,’ Steven said.
‘We’ll discuss that if we live through the night, young man,’ the captain said. ‘Right now, we’ve other problems. Why can’t you use magic? You used it this morning right enough.’
Gilmour asked, ‘Were you in Orindale when the great floodtide devastated the city?’
‘I didn’t see it happen, but I’ve seen the aftermath.’ He shuddered.
‘The person – the thing – that caused all that devastation is watching for Steven and me right now. Every time we use our magic, he knows it. We’re carrying a couple of things that give off a low hum of mystical energy, and I’m hoping that’s not enough for him to hone in on. He’s deadly dangerous, the most dangerous being ever to exist in Eldarn, and if Steven or I do anything to attract him, he will crush your ship to splinters and send us all to the bottom. I don’t doubt that for one moment, Captain Ford.’
‘But you used magic this morning-’
‘Nothing more than a party trick, I’m afraid.’ Gilmour sounded apologetic. ‘Skilled youngsters can do it, even without training. The man hunting for us wouldn’t give them a second glance.’
‘Hunting you?’ The captain was increasingly confused. ‘I thought you were hunting him.’
‘We are,’ Steven said, ‘but we have to be considerably more covert about it.’
‘Well, that’s just rutting great! A Malakasian cutter about to ram its bow right up my backside, and two sorcerers who can’t do any magic because they’ve got to hide from a rutting demon!’
‘It’s much, much worse than a demon,’ Garec said, unmoved by the captain’s anxiety. ‘What can we do?’
Ford leaned against the mainmast where it passed through the cabin, trying to regain his composure before returning to the helm. ‘You can douse all these candles, and no smoking; you’d be amazed what car
ries on the breeze. Garec, will you go aft and make sure someone has extinguished the cooking fires? We’ll need everyone on deck; this is a hard tack; we’re turning broadside to the wind, rutting near broaching, and it’s going to get rough. I would tell some of you to get some rest, but you probably won’t sleep now, anyway. And on deck, you do whatever Sera, Marrin or I tell you, no questions, no hesitation. Got it?’
Garec smiled grimly. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Are you any good with that bow?’
‘I’ve been known to hit my target, yes.’
‘He’s the best bowman in Eldarn,’ Gilmour clarified.
‘How close would they need to be for you to take out their officers and a few key members of the crew?’
‘In this wind?’ Garec considered the candles. ‘Not very close.’
‘Good,’ Ford forced a smile. ‘Then we’ll do it the old-fashioned way.’ To Steven and Gilmour, he said, ‘Gentlemen, if either of you has a change of heart, I need to know right away.’
Both men nodded.
Captain Ford’s voice changed. ‘Very well. Douse those flames, and let’s head west.’ He was once again the wise, experienced captain of the Morning Star.
By middlenight the Malakasian cutter had corrected her course to due north. Captain Ford left Sera at the helm and came forward to where Garec and Steven were helping Marrin haul in a sheet that had come free.
‘He’s second-guessing you, sir,’ Marrin said as the captain joined them.
‘He’s not stupid.’
‘What’s happening?’ Steven asked, shrugging out of his cloak. It was damp now, and heavy; he could work better without it, though he’d need to be careful to warm himself. With the ship broaching in the swells the way it was, he didn’t relish the idea of being below decks. He thought he might throw up if he spent too long in the cabin.
‘He took the bait for about an aven. When we doused the lights, he thought we were trying to run past him in the dark, but now he’s turned north again.’
