The orb of the sun lowered until it disappeared, and at the last instant, they saw a green flash. Ghuda smiled. “I’ve never seen that before.”
Nakor said, “Most people don’t. You have to watch a lot of sunsets over water to see it. Clouds have to be right in the sky and the weather must be right, and even then you can miss it. I have seen it only once before in my life.”
Praji said, “Worth the watching.” He laughed. “Come along. That’s the last fun we may have for a while.”
Ghuda lingered a moment, then said, “Wonders to behold.” He turned and followed the others below.
21
ESCAPE
Harry ran into the room.
Nicholas asked, “What?”
Breathlessly he said, “There’s a detachment of the Overlord’s soldiers heading this way.”
“Here?” asked Marcus, standing up and pushing back his chair.
“Maybe. I don’t know. They’re crossing the bazaar and heading down the street. And they don’t look happy.”
Nicholas said, “Brisa, get up on the roof and shout if they’re coming this way.” He barked orders to the men of Crydee, who hurried to carry them out. It was midday, and a half-dozen strangers were in the common room. Nicholas shouted, “Anyone here who doesn’t wish to find himself in the middle of a fight better leave now!”
A couple of men ran for the door, while others moved in a more sedate fashion. Suddenly Nakor shouted, “Nicholas! That man! Don’t let him go!”
Nicholas spun around as a thin man in nondescript workman’s clothing hurried toward the door. Nicholas leaped to stop him, drawing his dagger. The man pulled a dagger from his belt and lashed out. Vaja stepped up behind the man, hoisted his sword high, and slammed the bell guard down on the smaller man’s head. He collapsed to the floor, the dagger falling from limp fingers. Ghuda and Praji quickly hoisted the man to his feet, bleeding slightly from a scalp wound.
“Get him out of here,” said Amos. “Someone clean up the mess.”
Ghuda and Praji dragged the semiconscious attacker into the back room. Harry knelt and cleaned up the blood with a bar rag, then tossed it to Keeler, who hid it behind the bar.
Nicholas asked Nakor, “What was that about?”
“I’ll tell you after the soldiers have left,” answered Nakor as he hurried toward the back room.
Nicholas said, “Marcus, you, Calis, and Harry wait in the back with Ghuda and Praji. Vaja, stay close. Everyone try to look surprised when those soldiers come in, but the moment I give the word…”
Marcus said, “We’ll be ready,” as they headed for the back room.
In the common room, they sat, but hands rested near sword hilts, and they inspected the room, noticing the position of tables and anticipating the best lines of attack if they had to leave their chairs quickly. Four men stood at the bar, looking into half-empty mugs, daggers hidden out of sight but ready. Keeler cocked a heavy crossbow behind the bar.
Nicholas heard a voice of female outrage and knew the Ranjana was complaining about something. He was half out of his chair to investigate when the door flew open and an officer and four guards came into the room. The officer wore a uniform similar to that worn by the twenty men Nicholas had encountered at Shingazi’s Landing.
“Who commands here?” he asked loudly.
Nicholas continued coming to his feet and said, “I do. I’m Captain Nicholas.”
The man’s eyes instantly flicked to look at Nicholas’s feet. The Prince felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, but he willed himself to calmness. All the captain saw was two normal boots.
“We understand you have a girl with you,” said the captain, slowly, his voice deep, his words chosen carefully. “If she is who we think she is, you may be eligible for a reward.”
Nicholas forced a grin. “Girl? We don’t have any girl with us.”
The captain of the guard motioned for his men to spread out. “Search every room.”
Nicholas moved to put himself between the closest guardsman and the hallway leading to the rear. “I have a couple of sick men back there; I don’t want them disturbed. I said we don’t have any girl with us.” His voice was loud and his words enunciated clearly. He let his hand rest on his belt knife.
The guardsman looked over his shoulder, awaiting instructions. The captain turned to the man closest to the door and nodded. That soldier opened the door, and another dozen men filed into the room. “We prefer to see for ourselves,” said the captain after his men were inside.
Nicholas said, “I prefer that you don’t.”
“What’s all the noise?” asked a feminine voice from behind.
Nicholas turned to see Brisa appear at the door to the back. He glanced at Amos and Anthony, both of whom stared at the girl. She was without her usual man’s shirt and trousers, and instead wore a skimpy vest—without benefit of shirt or blouse beneath—which hung open, showing off a much fuller bosom than Nicholas had suspected, and a slender waist and flat stomach. Around her hips stretched a thin skirt, gathered up in a large knot at one hip, hanging precariously off the other, and tracing every curve of thigh and leg as she moved. Her hair was tousled and she yawned. She moved languidly across the room, swaying her hips in an exaggerated fashion. Reaching Nicholas’s side, she slipped her arm through his and said, “Why all the yelling, Nicky?”
The guard captain said, “You lied to me!”
Nicholas responded, “I said we had no girl with us. This is my woman.” As a guard moved toward the hallway, Nicholas said, “I still don’t want you back there.”
Brisa said, “Oh, I don’t mind,” adding, to the captain, “Our room is a mess, so please be careful.”
Nicholas glanced at her and she nodded slightly. “Very well,” he said.
A half-dozen soldiers moved back into the rear of the hostel, to reappear a few minutes later. “No sign of any other women, Captain. Just some sick men lying in the common sleeping room in the back.”
The captain threw Nicholas a long look, then turned and left without comment. Nicholas nodded once to one of his own men, who glanced through the shutters on the window. “They’re leaving, Captain,” he reported.
Nicholas turned to Brisa. “Where are they?”
“Up on the roof,” said the girl with a relieved expression. “Nakor and Calis are up there with them.”
Nicholas grinned. “You’re brilliant.”
“This wasn’t my idea,” she said, her voice turning angry as she noticed every man in the room staring at her. She pulled the tiny vest closed in front, then crossed her arms when the small garment wouldn’t adequately cover her. “Nakor heard you yelling at the captain. That little bastard pulled me off the ladder when I started to climb to the roof like you told me. Then he pushed me into the Ranjana’s room, and told Calis, Marcus, and Harry to take the girls up on the roof and pull up the ladder through the trapdoor in the ceiling. Next he grabbed my shirt and pulled it open—ripped all the buttons off and had it off me in a blink! Before I could move, he yanked my trousers down around my ankles and I was standing there starkers! Then he pushes me into this pile of clothing that witch had and said to put on something skimpy and get out and distract everyone for a few minutes.”
Amos grinned. “Well, my pretty wench, you certain did that.”
Blushing furiously, the girl turned and headed back toward the Ranjana’s quarters. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life—parading around half-naked like a Keshian tavern dancer! I’m going to kill that little monkey!”
Nicholas watched her disappearing into the hall, and the way her hips moved under the skimpy skirt. Amos’s hand fell on his shoulder and he heard Trask say, “Harry’s a lucky fellow. She is one fine-looking young woman.”
Nicholas smiled for a moment, then his expression turned serious. “We’ve got to leave tonight. Did you see the way that captain looked at my foot when I told him my name?”
“Yes. They’re looking for you and anyone else w
ho might have come here from Crydee.” He rubbed his chin. “Remember, unless they sent someone back to check, they don’t know the Raptor has sunk. They may be expecting those they didn’t kill at Crydee to be after them any day now. If Nakor’s right and this Lady Clovis is behind everything, she might suspect you were on the vessel following her black ship. Her raiders probably got a description of everyone important at Crydee from that Quegan trader Vasarius. They know who wasn’t killed during the raid. If Martin had been leading here…” He shook his head. “Who knows what might have happened.”
Nicholas said, “I’m glad they didn’t see Marcus and Harry. Two cousins who looked like brothers and a redheaded young man of the same general age would have been too much a coincidence. They still may come back.”
“And someone’s told them the Ranjana is here,” said Amos. “Maybe that Anward Nogosh Pata was trying to repair some of the damage done to his master’s dealings with the Overlord.”
A shout caused Nicholas and Amos to hurry to the rear, where they found Brisa hitting Nakor on the head and shoulders with one hand, while trying to keep her vest closed with the other. The little man was half laughing as he shouted, “I’ll sew the buttons on! I’ll do it right now!”
The Ranjana’s mood was no better than Brisa’s. She threw a dark look at Nicholas as she said, “That man put his hands on me!” She pointed at Calis, who smiled broadly, for the first time Nicholas could remember. “He pushed me up the ladder, and put his hands on my bottom!” complained the girl with indignation. “I will have him trampled under elephants!”
Calis shrugged. “She wasn’t moving as quickly as the maids had, and I heard the captain order the search.”
Nicholas said, “Girl, those men would have taken you out of here, to the Overlord’s palace, and I think you’d not have lived to see sundown. Now be quiet and go to your quarters and pack.”
“We’re leaving?”
Nicholas nodded. “Tomorrow, but early. So have your maids have everything ready by tonight’s meal. Now, go!”
Brisa pushed Nakor away and said, “I’ll sew them on myself, but we still have a score to settle.”
She vanished into the Ranjana’s room behind her and slammed the door. Nakor grinned. “That was fun.”
Watching the door for a minute, and thinking of how attractive Brisa was when she wasn’t decked out in shapeless man’s clothing, Nicholas could only say, “I imagine it was.”
“You’re a strange man,” said Amos to Nakor, laughing.
“How did you know to keep that man from leaving?” Nicholas asked Nakor as Marcus and Harry came down the ladder from the roof.
“Smelled him,” said Nakor, motioning for them to follow. He led them back to the common sleeping room, where Ghuda and Praji sat on beds on either side of the unconscious man. Nakor moved over to him and opened his shirt. He pulled a small pouch on a thong from around the man’s neck. “See?”
Nicholas took the pouch and smelled a familiar pungent odor. “Cloves?”
Nakor nodded. “I smelled it on him before, the first time I saw him in the commons, a day or two ago. Then I smelled it again when he tried to leave.”
Amos opened the pouch and poured a pile of cloves out. “So what’s this all about?”
“Cloves. Clovis. Obvious.”
“I still don’t understand,” said Amos.
“Do you know what clove is called in the Delkians dialect of Kesh?”
Amos said, “No.”
“Black rose. Ask any spice merchant south of the Girdle of Kesh. It took me some time,” admitted Nakor. “I couldn’t understand why this man smelled like cloves. But it came to me.” He took the bag from Amos. “If they leave a message for another agent, say, in an agreed-upon place, they put one of these cloves with it, and the other agent knows it is genuine. Simple.”
Nicholas said, “Very.”
Amos said, “Too simple.”
Nicholas said, “For ruling and conquest. But remember who we’re dealing with and what their motives are, and you’ll see that they’re effective enough.”
Amos nodded. He remembered what Nicholas had told him and what he had seen at the Battle of Sethanon. The Pantathians were not concerned with conquest and ruling. They were a death cult bent on recalling their goddess through the Lifestone. If death was the only object, one need not be that clever, thought Amos.
“What do we do with this one?” asked Ghuda, indicating the unconscious agent.
Nicholas said, “Tie him up and keep him someplace safe. Have Keeler cut him loose after we’ve been gone a day. We’ll be safely away or…it won’t matter.”
The others nodded. They knew exactly what he meant by that.
—
BRISA PULLED HER trousers on, tied the waist cord securely, then sat on the floor, ignoring the black looks directed at her by the Ranjana. She refused to leave half-clothed, so she insisted on sewing the buttons back on her shirt before quitting the noblewoman’s quarters. She had bullied a needle and thread from one of the maids.
“You may be used to the rough hands of common men on you,” snapped the Ranjana, “but I am not!”
Brisa said, “Take your black mood out on someone else, girl. I’m not inclined to put up with it.” She bit at the thread and checked the condition of the first button. Starting on the second one, she said, “And if you’re too stupid to notice, Calis is not what I would call common.”
The Ranjana lost her petulant pose long enough to say, “He is uncommonly strong. I am not large, but I would not have guessed any man could have pushed me upward that rapidly and easily.”
“With one hand, too, if he was on the ladder.”
The maids exchanged looks of amazement, as they had all been on the roof and had seen none of this. The Ranjana said, “He’s not bad-looking, either, though there’s something about him that’s strange.”
“More than you’ll ever know,” said Brisa with a mocking tone.
The Ranjana said, “More than I would ever wish to know. My maids may know common men, and it’s clear you’re used to them, but I am to be saved for a man of rank, a man of wealth and power.”
“And you think being the fifteenth wife of this Overlord is something special?” She shook her head. “Some people.”
The Ranjana smiled. “Your captain is handsome, in a stern way, but I like it when he smiles.” She found Brisa staring at her in amusement, and said, “But he’s too common a man for one such as I.”
Brisa couldn’t help it, and burst out laughing.
“What’s so amusing?” the Ranjana demanded.
“Ah, nothing,” said Brisa, finishing the second button.
“No, what is it?” asked the Ranjana while Brisa set to work on the third button.
Brisa ignored her for a minute; she finished the third button and started on the last. “Girl,” demanded the Ranjana. “What was so funny?”
Brisa put down the needle and donned her man’s shirt. Standing up, she said, “Just that some people have an odd notion of what’s noble and what’s common. You wouldn’t know a prince if you’d been standing next to him for weeks.” She left without further word.
The Ranjana stood, hands on hips, a moment, then stormed to the door and pulled it open. A guard stood outside, and as she attempted to move around him, he said, “Sorry, my lady, but you’re to stay in the room and oversee the packing of your baggage.”
“I need to talk to that girl—”
The soldier interrupted. “Sorry, my lady. The captain was very clear you were to do nothing but pack until supper.”
The Ranjana stepped back into her room and closed her door. She turned with a thoughtful expression on her face and said, “Prince?” After a moment of reflection, she clapped her hands together and said, “Hurry! What are you waiting for. Everything must be packed and ready for travel by supper!”
Seeing her maids were hurrying to get her clothing and jewels packed away, the Ranjana crossed to her bed and lay down, thin
king. “A Prince?” Then a smile came to her and she began to hum a faint tune.
—
AS THE SUN sank in the west, Harry stood nervously overseeing the line of carts and wagons heading for the docks. The boats were all waiting, manned by hired boatmen paid extra to be ready to leave at any time of the day or night. Tuka was at the dock to see none of them wandered off or got drunk while waiting. Praji, Vaja, and twenty-four mercenaries, posing as guards, were there to ensure the little wagon driver’s orders were obeyed. Calis and Marcus would join them, and as the boats set off down the river, it would be their job to get the prisoners out of Dahakon’s estate.
Harry directed the four guards to go to the head of the small caravan, while Brisa herded the Ranjana and her maids. Nicholas had decided to keep the girls with his party a while longer, before releasing them with enough money to purchase escorts back up river. Harry was worried; the Ranjana was being cooperative to the point of behaving sweetly, even to Brisa.
Brisa looked suspicious whenever the noblewoman asked a question, but she welcomed nattering over arguments. Brisa kept her eyes moving through the late afternoon shadows, looking for signs of unexpected movement, or of being watched, while she half listened to the chattering Ranjana. Most of the questions were about Nicholas, which she fended off with vague answers.
Harry was watching the last wagon leave the bazaar when he heard a shout and the sound of confusion from the north side of the giant square. A detachment of soldiers rode into view, laying about with lashes as they drove everyone out of their way. Behind came a line of wagons, each carrying what looked to be prisoners. Then Harry’s eyes widened.
He turned to his wagon driver. “A bonus if you make sure everyone in front of you gets to the docks in order. I must take a message to my master!”
As the wagon driver shouted, “How much?” Harry raced back into the bazaar, dodging through the press of shoppers and merchants. He could see the plumes of two guard officers above the heads of the crowd, which gathered to watch the spectacle, and some of the heads of the prisoners in the high wagons as well.
The King's Buccaneer Page 49
