Those were the ones Gideon remembered. The others were a blur of activity that included a halfling in the rigging whose feet never quite seemed to hit the deck; a half-orc nearby whose belly-laughs echoed all over the ship; a peg-legged helmsman swearing with a Sardis accent; a one-eyed sailmaster swearing back with a Ridonport drawl; an Ulfen sailor who wore chain armor and such a cold gaze she seemed plucked from a storied longboat; and an elven rigger with a prominent scar who seemed determined to ignore his fellow elf the bosun.
Whatever their eccentricities, they seemed good at their jobs. Riposte cleared the Porthmos and began lurching with the waves as the river shook hands with the Inner Sea. Gideon nearly lost footing and face. Leothric found something left of his lunch to lose.
The river had fooled Gideon's eyes; but here was the true sea, as his guts remembered it.
Viridia emerged from the little cabin given over to the bards. She stalked over to the edge near Gideon and Leothric, vomited into the deep, and scowled at her schoolmates, the crew, and perhaps all of Taldor behind them. "I want you to understand," she said, "that I hold you all responsible." Then she marched back into her cabin.
"That's three times," Leothric remarked.
"She comes from the plains. It's a very different environment for your feet."
"And head. And stomach."
"So mine are telling me. Rough weather today."
"Eh?" Grizzendell said. "It's a wonderful sailing day. You want rough weather, wait till we hit the Jagged Saw!"
Leothric shook his head. "I don't know how Tambour convinced Father to abandon me. Perhaps he felt this experience would toughen me."
"He may have said something of the sort," Adebeyo confirmed.
Leothric nodded. He looked back at the Taldan coast, green and rocky behind them, with an ever-increasing expanse of blue between. "Well. Father never was wholly pleased with my attending the Rhapsodic. He never understood the call of the puppets."
Ozrif whispered to Gideon, "No one understands the call of the puppets."
"Peace," Gideon whispered back.
Leothric shook his head at them, but if he'd overheard he didn't acknowledge it further. "I have nothing left to leave." He covered his mouth. "Or heave...But that won't stop me..." He stepped unsteadily toward the railing.
Viridia emerged some time later, looking somewhat better. Whether it was because Sebastian's work was done for now, or because there was a woman to impress, the captain intercepted her and offered his arm. When they reached the other bards, Sebastian let go, bowed, and addressed his passengers. Or prisoners. "Now we sail west for a time, to be fully clear of the coast, and to trick any spying eyes. But soon enough, we make for Taldor's northwest coast."
"Good," Viridia said, her ire gone. "Open sea seems to agree with me."
"You must be the only one," Gideon said.
"Something about the wind..." Viridia watched the horizon. "It's calming."
"I've always loved it," Sebastian said. "I grew up along a forest river. Yet it was the water, not the wood, that called to me. When I came to the sea, I felt I'd come home."
"This is your first command," Ozrif stated.
"Yes. How did you know?"
"A certain pride in your bearing. How long have you been master of Riposte?"
"A year. Gull here was actually with me on my first shakedown. We sailed from Cassomir, where she was built, south to Absalom, then on to Oppara. She was brand-new then."
"You've seen some action," Gideon remarked to Sebastian. "There are cracks here and there in the wood that suggest ballista bolts or sword impacts." And stains, he didn't add, that couldn't entirely be swabbed away.
Sebastian grunted. "Yes, we've been in battle. Riposte isn't a large vessel, like my mentor Jean Coremont's Happenstance, and we must avoid heavy seas and heavy prey. But we have advantages larger ships don't. We can travel far up the rivers, for one thing."
Gideon nodded, noting the ballista near the prow, the heavy crossbows stowed along the sides, and a contraption amidships which he suspected was some manner of extensible boarding plank.
"She doesn't seem large enough for prize-taking," Ozrif said.
"You'd be surprised, and so would the prizes."
"Captain," Leothric said, "You speak of combat."
"True."
"And you claim this vessel's name is Riposte."
"Indeed."
"Yet unless my eyes entirely fail me, the name I saw upon the keel as we boarded was Roundelle."
"A ship is a lady, and it's a lady's privilege to dissemble."
"You're not entirely an honest crew, I take it."
Sebastian laughed. "My dear Leothric, we're honest as they come. We're privateers. We carry a letter of marque and reprisal from the Grand Prince himself. Anything that floats beyond Taldor's lawful protection is our rightful prey."
"Pirates, more or less."
"Bah," chipped in the gnome quartermaster. "Pirates are monsters, enemies of all civilized races. We are ladies and gentlemen of fortune, a chimeric collection of passions, with thunder in our laughter and rum in our blood."
"My fate's entrusted to knaves," Leothric moaned.
"I urge you to be polite, good bard," said Sebastian. "Many here are thinner-skinned than Grizzendell."
"Then I'll politely bid you good evening." Leothric stumbled off to the bards' little cabin beneath the fo'c'sle.
"We need to tell him," Gideon said.
Ozrif shrugged. "You're volunteering, I take it."
"But it's fun hearing him sputter," Viridia said.
"Keeping him in the dark will just make him suspicious," Gideon said, "but revealing the truth may bring out his Taldan patriotism. Might be better if a Taldan did it."
"You're his roommate," Viridia said.
"You're all his roommates now," Sebastian noted.
∗ ∗ ∗
And so it was that the fo'c'sle's tiny cabin—little better than a guard shack—became the scene of many a talk, starting with the one that rendered Leothric speechless.
They hung in hammocks, Ozrif and Leothric on one side, Viridia and Gideon on the other. (Once again Viridia and Ozrif seemed determined to defy the conventional wisdom and keep apart. Not that "apart" meant much in this space.) With their gear in place—harps, juggling pins, dancing veils, puppets, weapons, disguise kits, breaking and entering tools, and the like—there was no place to sit.
It was night, and they swung in their hammocks like pea pods in a breeze, as the sea boomed about them.
"Generous of the quartermaster to provide us space," Gideon said by way of conversation. "Aside from the captain, we have the closest thing to privacy."
"Huzzah," said Leothric without enthusiasm.
"Leothric, we should take advantage of that privacy."
"You're about to tell me you three are some kind of eccentric romantic unit, and that I'd better go stargaze."
"Um, no. We're spies."
"Oh. It's possible prior experience colored my expectations. You wouldn't believe my roommate stories. This is another good one. Except that if I tell it you'll have to kill me, I suppose." He paused. Seeing their expressions, his eyes widened. "You're serious. Spies."
"'Lion Blade' is the preferred term," Viridia said.
"We're not the sort of agents who quietly pass along information," Ozrif added. "We're more the flamboyant sort who might rescue such agents when things go bad."
"Or sneak into palaces to overhear war plans," Gideon said.
"Or remove people who need removing," Viridia said.
Leothric was silent for a full ten seconds.
"All right, I admit you had me going for a minute there," he said at last. "Gideon, if this is to get me back for that time I put a rat puppet in your—"
"It's no joke," Gideon said.
As the silence stretched on anew, Viridia said, "Think about what's happened, Leothric. How quickly everything's moved. Why do you think we were out looking for the groundskeeper? H
e was our teacher."
"All of you?" Leothric said. "And you 'remove' people?" Gideon could almost see the gears turning, as Leothric thought back to every snide remark he'd ever made about the three.
He felt a little sorry for Leothric, and quickly said, "We're really just students. We're told that when we graduate, we'll receive assignments appropriate to our talents."
"Therefore," Viridia said, "Gideon will be assigned to keep very close watch on divas in Cassomir."
"You're students?" Leothric said. "Spy students? This is preposterous! Where do you study? How do you have time?"
"You may have heard rumors of catacombs beneath the college," Ozrif said.
"I figured that was some overblown legend! Or at most the meeting place of the Ghost Choir, the secret society of elite students."
"I suspect the Ghost Choir's an invention of the Shadow School," Gideon said.
"As for time," Viridia said, "well, somehow we manage. Schedule-juggling is perhaps an important trait for secret agents."
"Schedules are the one thing I fear juggling," Ozrif added.
"So this truly is a government mission?" Leothric thought about it. "I suppose it explains why Sebastian had so much sway with my parents. That's been puzzling me. He's your leader, I take it?"
"That's an interesting question," Gideon said. "He's taken charge of us. There are special circumstances."
"And the rest of the crew?"
"I think they're aware of their captain's moonlighting," said Ozrif, "but are not otherwise involved."
"Except to help drop the right people in the right ports," said Viridia. "Like us."
"You're enjoying this," Ozrif said.
"And you're not?" Viridia shot back.
"I've merely acclimated."
"Liar."
"I take it you weren't fully prepared for this mission," Leothric said. "Well, good. I feel more parity that way. But a couple of questions: Viridia, in the past you've sounded less than worshipful of Taldor's nobility. Why would you spy for us?"
"The answer's simple: I don't. I spy for my country, which is a damn sight more than just you lot."
"Hm. And Gideon, Ozrif—you're not even Taldans. Why do you spy for my country?"
"Katapesh is my home," Ozrif said, "but in Katapesh you're less a citizen than a commodity. Taldor has accepted me. Grudgingly in some cases, I admit. But I have a home here. I'll do my best for my adopted land."
Gideon nodded. "I'm not Taldan, you're right. I'm not ashamed to be Andoren. But Taldor, even much reduced, is a great civilization. I want to help preserve it. And I love its people and the liveliness of the Taldan spirit. Sometimes I think you Taldans live more easy and free than we Andorens, with our endless speeches and self-righteousness. Even if you drive me crazy sometimes."
"And if you're ever forced to choose?" Leothric asked. "Between your homeland and your employers?"
Gideon realized he was echoing the thoughts of many a warrior of mixed loyalties, throughout the ages. "If torn between countries, I won't so much choose between them as stand with my comrades, come what may."
"Hm. One more thing," Leothric said, "if this turns out to be an elaborate prank, you will all be the subject of spiteful puppet shows for the next fifty years."
Gideon smiled. "I've seen you fight. Once I might have scoffed at that threat. No longer."
∗ ∗ ∗
The night's watch kept Riposte sailing in the relatively calm region west of the Porthmos, but come the dawn they bore north toward the rocky coast known as the Jagged Saw. Sebastian called the Rhapsodic contingent onto the deck and assigned them mops.
"This is just make-work, isn't it?" Viridia asked. "You think we're not worthy of useful labor."
"You're green, Viridia."
"I feel much better."
Sebastian laughed. "I mean you're new to the sea. You think the mop's a badge of scorn. It's not! We know you lack seamanship but are willing to pitch in."
"It'll be fun," Gideon said. He didn't mind labor, make-work or otherwise. There had been plenty of that at the family winery.
As the next hour passed, the waves grew larger, sometimes taller than a tall man, with white crests. The air was full of spray. Gideon took care with his grip. It had become impossible to mop.
Sebastian bellowed, "Swabbies, stow your gear! Welcome to the Jagged Saw! Here the winds of the Inner Sea act like arrows at an archery range, and every ship's a target."
"Is this the worst we can expect?" Ozrif shouted, the wind stealing his voice.
"Ha! This is but a strong breeze!"
"Why did he ask?" Leothric moaned.
"We completely bypassed this passage on my last voyage!" said Gideon. "I have to admit, I'm missing Absalom!"
"Indeed!" Sebastian said. "But today we make speed!"
Before long the bards banished themselves to their little cabin. There was nothing for it but hope Sebastian's crew knew what they were doing. Some waves were now tall as trees. The crests foamed and streamed. There was so much spray in the air that Gideon's face dripped as he secured the door. There were times he was sure Riposte would scuttle.
He was wrong. Whether due to hidden properties in the gnome-drafted design, the supreme skill of the crew, or divine intervention, Riposte survived to return to what Sebastian called a "strong breeze," and which felt now like a tranquil moment on a lake.
Of them all, Viridia seemed the most renewed. She emerged from the cabin spinning, half-dancing, in air that seemed fresh-scrubbed. She was halfway to the prow as the other bards emerged, blinking, into the sunset.
"She seems to have the best sea-legs of all of us," Gideon remarked.
"The best leg-legs too," said Leothric.
"Mind your tongue," said Ozrif.
"Just an observation."
"Death by drowning's mere inches away. That's also just an observation." The juggler followed after Viridia, leaving Gideon with the sputtering Leothric.
"He's a pig," Leothric said. "What does she see in him?"
If he's a pig, at least he's not a bore. "So you think she likes him?"
"It's obvious they're dancing and juggling around each other. You could cut the tension with one of those curvy pirate swords."
"Cutlasses."
"Whatever." Leothric sighed. "I don't know, Gideon, do you suppose if I moved in, it would help?"
"What?"
"Well, two things could happen. I get rejected and Ozrif realizes he's not the only one to notice her, so he finally makes his move. Or I get accepted, and well—praise Shelyn. It's a good thing either way."
"Leothric, I'd advise you not to pursue your plan aboard ship."
Leothric nodded. "There are taboos against shipboard romance?"
"On land there are more places to run."
They reached the bow, where Viridia was perched as far forward as possible, Ozrif a respectful distance beside her. Seeing them, Gideon did feel a certain sadness that Viridia's would-be suitors included one man overly diffident, and the other a lout.
Ozrif nodded to them. "Viridia seems fully recovered, and ready to compete with the ship's figurehead."
Gideon leaned over to look at Riposte's wooden mermaid, the one with the dagger in her teeth.
Leothric frowned. "Is that a real dagger...?"
Gideon said, "I admit, Viridia, I'm surprised you've taken so much to the sea."
She looked toward the east, far beyond the Taldan coast to where the Whistling Plains lay. "I'm surprised too. But perhaps it's simply that I love grand expanses. Stavian's Hold is at the edge of another kind of sea—a sea of grass. There you can climb the highest tower and see endless swaths of green and yellow stalks, kingdoms of grass sliced by river after river. You can ride past that horizon and beyond it there's more of the grass, more of the rivers, as if it will all never end."
"You must love it," Gideon said.
"Or perhaps you've found a new love," Leothric said. Then, belatedly, added, "The sea."
"
The sea's the greatest of adventures," Ozrif cut in. "Often I've wanted to sail you off to my port city of Katapesh, show you its wonders."
Viridia shook her head. "I do think I can come to enjoy the sea. It's wide and humbling like the plains. But you can't build a homestead on water."
"No, but in Katapesh we'll sell you deeds to imaginary islands."
"Ha! Well, our adventurers are the ones who clear the land, build a farm, and move their families into the great green void. And that's the wonder of it: you can really do it. New land, new opportunities." She looked troubled, then, and Gideon remembered the fog within the Shadow School, and the scenes therein.
"But sometimes things go wrong," Gideon said.
"Well...We were loyal subjects of the Grand Prince, of course—may he be free of bonechill and brainworms—but on the homestead we felt as though we were on our own. Would that we were. The governor of Stavian's Hold had a mandate to build the city as strong as possible, and for that he needed taxes. He looked the other way if the tax collectors shook down a homestead. My parents eventually had enough, and denied the collector any more than he was due."
"Ouch!" Leothric said, leaning precariously over the side. 'It's a real dagger..."
Viridia folded her arms, frowning against the wind. "The collector lied to the governor, saying my father had struck him. We were hit with crushing new fines, and my parents protested directly." She looked down at the waves splitting against the bow. "They were hung."
The other bards were silent.
"I'm sorry," Ozrif said. "I always knew something terrible had occurred, but not what."
"I'd offer you a hand of consolation," Leothric said, "but I'm bleeding. Excuse me." He went in search of a bandage.
"We're all acquainted with loss," Viridia said. "You lost a brother, Gideon. And you your whole family, Ozrif. I still have relatives in the east."
Ozrif gazed out at the open ocean. "Pain is pain."
Viridia put a hand on his shoulder. Clouds rode across the sky, frothing with fantastic shapes, moving in advance of a dark mass of storm to the west.
"That looks ominous," Gideon muttered.
Leothric returned with a strip of cloth wrapped around his hand, Sebastian beside him. "Did you see those clouds?" Leothric said. His gaze flicked to where Viridia's hand still lay on Ozrif's shoulder. "Not good."
The Dagger of Trust Page 11
