Southern Fire ac-1

by Juliet E. McKenna

  Better find out one way or the other before sending any message to Planir, Dev decided. The Archmage of Hadrumal wasn't going to appreciate unsubstantiated guesses. Nor would magic show him the truth of whatever was prompting these suspicions. He could only scry for a limited distance without being able to focus on a place or a person well known to him. So he had better sail south and find out what was going on. If the fearful Aldabreshi turned on him, he would be gone before they laid hands on him, magic carrying him back to the safety of Hadrumal, the hidden isle where the northern wizards had their city of lore and learning. Hadrumal, hard-won sanctuary for mageborn gathered from all across the mainland, where they could learn to control their inborn affinity with the elements that suffused the world, where generations of study had filled libraries with wisdom that every master mage strove to add to. Hadrumal; quite the most boring place Dev had ever lived, its only recommendation the lack of the kicks and bruises that had been his lot before he arrived there.

  Dev shuddered. Sailing south into the teeth of the oncoming rainy season would be no pleasure jaunt. Still, at least he could work a few enchanted winds to help with that. Halting on the beach opposite his own safely anchored ship, he looked around the busy harbour and raised fingers to his mouth for a piercing whistle. 'Ferry!'

  A man poling a shallow-sided, flat-bottomed boat through the shallows hailed him. 'Back to the Amigal, is it?'

  Dev splashed through the wavelets to step aboard. 'I want to call on the Silken Vine first.'

  'Bit early in the day, isn't it?' chuckled the ferryman with a hint of envy.

  Dev grinned. 'I thought I'd get in before the rush starts.'

  The ferryman glanced at Dev's beardless chin and drew an obvious conclusion. 'You won't get much competition round here, not for the lads' favours. It's the girls will be rushed off their feet, if you get my meaning. Well, when the sun's off the zenith. There's more than flowers wilt in this kind of heat.'

  Dev shrugged. 'I don't like to follow in another man's wake.'

  The ferryman leaned on his pole and drove them deftly through a cluster of fishing boats. He let the pole drift up and pushed on it to turn their course towards a wide-bellied galley resting in a prime anchorage. Her oars were shipped inboard and only a few of her crew were idling about their last tasks. A rope running from the main mast to the ornate prow was crowded with white-bordered tongues of silk proclaiming right of passage through a myriad domains.

  Dev stood, balancing easily in the shallow ferryboat. 'You there! Tell Tabraze that Dev's here to see her.'

  The ferryman watched the lad scurry off. 'You're known here?'

  'Very much so.' Dev grinned. 'I'll trade you an introduction for the ride.'

  The ferryman laughed but shook his head. 'My wife would read me my future in my own entrails.'

  'I'll give you something to put a smile on her face.' Dev reached for the rope ladder uncoiling from the Silken Vine'?, stern rail. 'If you keep an eye out this way and fetch me back to the Amigal when I'm done.'

  'Gladly' The ferryman pushed off from the galley's side as Dev climbed up.

  'Over here.' An elegant woman with a placid smile beckoned from beneath a tasselled canopy rigged just before the ship's little aft mast. The three shallow steps of the stern platform made a natural dais where she reclined on a heap of satin cushions. She was sipping from a golden cup, her gauzy white gown all but transparent, wrists and ankles laden with chains of silver moonstones. Her oiled skin shone glossy as ebony.

  'Tabraze.' Dev sauntered over, grinning with broad appreciation. 'You look well.'

  She narrowed silver-painted eyes at him. 'Then come here and give me more than flattery. Isn't it time I found out just what secrets you're hiding?' Her speculative gaze lingered on Dev's trousers.

  'Not today.' He took a cushion under the shade of the silken awning and helped himself to a golden goblet from the tray at Tabraze's elbow. 'Can you take two girls off my hands?'

  'I'm not sure, Dev.' Tabraze brushed a hand over the arc of silver combs that held her waist-length black hair back from her face. The artless gesture made it plain there was nothing beneath her gown but her generous breasts. 'If they're anything like the last one you tried to foist on me.' Distaste twisted her tempting mouth into a stern pout.

  'Repi was a mess before I picked her up.' Dev waved a perfunctory hand. 'Anyway, she's dead. These two—'

  'But you didn't keep Repi out of your little jars and boxes, did you?' Tabraze interrupted him with uncompromising reproof. 'I'll keep no girls who have to be witless on dreamsmoke before they'll lie down for a man. This ship's never getting that reputation.'

  'These two both enjoy trading favours for fancies,' Dev assured her. 'And neither takes so much as chewing leaf.'

  'So why are you looking to be rid of them?' Tabraze still looked suspicious. 'Or are they looking to leave you? Are you looking to touch me for a price I needn't actually pay?'

  Dev leant forward to run a hand down Tabraze's gossamer-draped thigh. 'I'll pay the proper price to touch you, one of these days.'

  A crewman coiling a rope down on deck paused, surprised to see the gesture.

  'What do you want?' Dev challenged and the galley man moved away hastily.

  'Tease.' Tabraze dismissed his words with a wave of her cup. 'So what's the deal?'

  'They only sought passage to somewhere with more opportunities than the rock they were born on. I've got wind of something I want to pursue without encumbrances.' Dev shrugged. 'I thought coming to terms with you would do everyone some good. Of course, I could just slip them some thassin and get their bodyweight in liquor from the first meat trader I run into.'

  'I never know what to make of you, Dev.' Tabraze gazed at him levelly. 'I don't even know if you're woman's man, man's man or zamorin.'

  The crewman looked up again, startled at his mistress's frank admission of such uncouth curiosity.

  Dev was unperturbed. 'You keep your secrets and I'll keep mine.'

  Tabraze waved her cup again, diaphanous silk tightening across her bosom. 'I have nothing to hide.'

  'Not in that dress,' agreed Dev appreciatively.

  'It's too hot to play games.' Tabraze sat up. 'All right. What are you looking for from me? As long as they're healthy and willing, mark you.'

  'Mahaf Coru's household warriors brought a goodly weight of supplies to pay for their pleasures last night.' Dev gestured down the broad deck of the galley to the cookhouse standing on the starboard side. 'I'll settle for a sack of sailer grain and as much dried fruit as you can spare.'

  'You really are in a hurry to get rid of them.' Tabraze tilted her head on one side, pink tongue delicately licking her painted lips. 'If it's not because they're too fuddled to stand upright, you must be on the scent of something good.'

  'As you say, it's too hot to play games.' Dev drained his goblet and set it back on the tray with a sharp clink. 'Do I send these girls to you or just dump them on the beach and let them take their chances?'

  'I'll take them.' Irritation carved a momentary crease between Tabraze's immaculately plucked brows. 'But next time I see you, Dev, I want a sniff of whatever you're chasing.' She smiled winsomely at him. 'Just a rose will suffice. I'm not asking for the whole flower garden.'

  'You're the one who'll be owing me. They're good girls, you'll see. You can send that deckhand with the flapping ears over with my supplies as soon as may be. I want to catch the next tide.' Dev left Tabraze both curious and frustrated as he moved to the rail of the great galley and waved to the ferryman who'd brought him to the Silken Vine.

  Poling back with alacrity, he grinned up at Dev. 'That was quick.'

  'I've never been one to waste time.' Dev paused to make an ostentatious adjustment to his groin before swinging his leg over the stern rail.

  'Back to the Amiga.' The ferryman pushed off.

  Dev nodded. As they approached his ship, small enough to sail single-handed, large enough to carry a cargo to justify his travels, he
shouted up to the deck. 'Ekkai! Taryu!' Two girls appeared over the rail, each in a simple dress of silk draped over one shoulder, one scarlet, and one blue. 'Throw me a line, you silly poults.'

  One of the girls hastily flung a rope and Dev caught it deftly. 'Wait here,' he told the ferryman. 'These two are taking passage with the Silken Vine.'

  'We are?' The elder girl's surprise reflected that on the ferryman's face.

  'You are.' Dev hauled himself aboard and the two girls quickly retreated. Neither wore much by way of gold or jewels but fresh logen vine flowers in their tight-curled hair decorated an undemanding prettiness. They stood close together, round faces wary.

  'Well?' challenged Dev. 'You've made it plain you're not interested in my kind of business.'

  'It's—' began the younger girl hotly.

  'Hush, Ekkai.' The elder gripped her sister's arm tightly enough to drive the blood from her fingernails. 'Get your things. It has to be better than sailing with him.'

  'The Silken Vine has an honest reputation,' the ferryman called up. 'It sails under Mahaf Coru's protection.'

  'That's something, I suppose.' Taryu looked at Dev with undisguised dislike. 'We'll get our things.'

  Dev raised a warning hand. 'You can gather your rags and tatters, Ekkai. Taryu, you stay with me.' He stepped forward and caught her by the wrist, forcing her to the far side of the deck and out of the ferryman's earshot. 'You do right by Tabraze or when I catch up with you, I'll take the price of her disappointment out of your hide. I want her so grateful for such wonderful girls, she'll open her private jewel case and let me take my pick. Don't forget you still owe me, come to that. Keep your ears open as well as your thighs and make sure you've got solid information to balance our ledgers. Don't think this is the last you'll see of me, girl.' Satisfied to feel Taryu shaking, he let go of her hand.

  'Don't think we won't find someone to protect us from your kind.' She rubbed at her wrist, defiance imperfectly masking her fear.

  Dev smiled. 'I love you too, sweetness. When you get to the Silken Vine, tell Tabraze you owe Bidric the shawl merchant a good time for his youngest son. The lad's called Firan and it'll be his first time. You treat him gently.'

  Ekkai scrambled up out of the stern hatch, clutching an armful of flimsy scarves, a few choice dresses in painted and embroidered silks and some workaday tunics in much-washed cotton. Taryu wriggled past Dev and hurried to help her roll them into a haphazard bundle.

  'Not taking anything that you're not owed?' Dev turned suddenly just as Taryu and Ekkai thought they had made their way to the ship's rail unchallenged. He grinned. 'No, you wouldn't dare, would you?'

  Not troubling himself to help the girls climb down, Dev addressed the ferryman. 'When you've offloaded this pair, take a message to Bidric the shawl merchant for me. Tell him I had to catch the tide, unexpected news. He can hang on to my metal wares or trade them if he gets a good enough offer. I'll catch up with him soon enough and we can settle up then. Take a piece out of what he's holding for me for yourself, or you can take what you're owed from one of those two.' Dev nodded at the girls with a sly wink. 'Tell him they're holding what I owe him for Firan.'

  The ferryman cleared his throat. 'I'll settle for a present for my wife, thanks all the same.'

  Dev turned to check the Amigal's rigging as the ferryman poled away. That was one less complication, or rather two. It never hurt to have some willing warmth to offer a man who couldn't be bribed with liquor or leaf but Ekkai and Taryu were far too quick-witted to take south on this particular quest. Repi had had her advantages even if she'd preferred to live in her smoke-filled dreams. It never mattered what she saw or heard; no one took her word for the phase of the moons without looking up to check.

  Was there anything else he needed to dispose of before he quit this anchorage? Not that he could think of. Bidric would doubtless get the better end of the deal whenever they came to settle up over Dev's metal goods but the shawl trader was honest enough to feel himself under no slight obligation as a consequence. That was no bad thing. Dev looked up to check the sun's progress across the sky, calculating how soon he could sail.

  'Amigal, ho!' Tabraze's crewman shouted up from a dumpy rowing boat.

  'Ho yourself.' Dev threw a rope down. 'Tie the goods on to that.' Testing the weight, he began hauling the heavy sack of sailer grain upwards. He grinned as he grunted with the effort, spirits rising at the thought of the chal-lenge ahead. Trading had been getting boring. Besides, where was the profit for a mage in knowing more than anyone else about the quarrels and rivalries of the various domains? Planir never appreciated what cunning it took to learn such things. Tracing these rumours of magic to their source, that was a fitting undertaking for a mage of his talents. He was more than ready for something new. If it proved to be dangerous, that was no more than a spice to be savoured, like the pepper pods in the old woman's squab stew.

  Chapter Six

  'Watch your every word, your every step.' Janne waved gaily to the curious crowd thronging the river bank but her voice was deathly serious as she spoke to Itrac. Standing together at the great galley's rail, both women were swathed in light wraps of nubby silk that covered them from head to toe.

  'Never let Ulla Safar get you on your own.' Kheda's stern warning was just as much at odds with his beaming face. 'He's far too fond of offering junior wives some virile Ulla seed to quicken their next child.'

  'If they demur, he's happy to outline the appalling consequences for their domain and its trade, if he sets his face and his wives against them.' Janne clapped her hands with delight as flowers rained down on the galley's deck and pattered on to the many-coloured silken canopy erected to shade the warlord and the women from the punishing sun. Her full lips pouted enticingly beneath immaculately applied colour but there was no hint of softness in her eyes outlined in black and red and dusted with a sweep of gold that glistened on her cheekbones before disappearing into her hairline.

  Moving cautiously against the sluggish flow of the twisting, muddy river, the galley was passing between two immense watchtowers. The sprawling battlements were crowded with people welcoming such noble guests to the heart of the Ulla domain in time-honoured tradition. The scarves and banners they brandished echoed the brightly patterned sails now furled up above on the great galley's masts.

  I don't know what possessed Rekha to call this ship the Rainbow Moth. Colourful sails are all very well but nothing's going to make this massive hull remind anyone of a dainty insect.

  Kheda shifted his shoulders within his own enveloping cloak of undyed silk. 'Telouet, when you get a moment, ask around the servants. Find out if these locals came out of their own accord or were driven down to the river by the spears of Ulla Safar's warriors.'

  Once we have that answer, we can discuss what it might mean with Janne.

  Helms swathed in cotton to mitigate the intense heat, Telouet and Birut stood fully armoured on either side of the canopy's poles, which looked incongruously sturdy for such a frivolous burden. Both slaves were watching the rain of flowers intently for any sign of more hostile missiles.

  Does anyone ashore realise this awning is lined with a sheet of fine chainmail? Does knowing, or not knowing, make any difference to what the Ulla people throw?

  The notion might have been amusing, if Kheda didn't feel the chances of some kind of assault were all too high.

  With the rains due any day, the heat's appalling, no relief day or night. If anyone attacks us, Ulla Safar will just claim ignorance and accept a plea of seasonal madness in mitigation.

  Now the Rainbow Moth was passing the inner faces of the watchtowers. Itrac Chazen struggled to maintain her carefree expression as she gazed over the turbid water to the end of a massive chain, links as long as a man's leg, secured to the mighty fortification. 'That runs all the way across the river bed?'

  'Right to the other watchtower.' Kheda gave Janne a significant look as the great galley passed over the invisible boundary. 'There are huge windlasse
s each with a gang of slaves just waiting for Ulla Safar's order to haul it up and block any ship's passage upstream or down.

  Now we are within Ulla Safar's grasp. What choice did we have, with Safar refusing any of the more neutral meeting places Redigal Coron or Ritsem Caid suggested and offering his dubious hospitality instead? Well, we've taken all reasonable precautions.

  Kheda felt a little better as Janne smiled reassurance at him.

  'How far away are the triremes?' The concern in Itrac's dark eyes belied her apparently light-hearted smiles. She scanned the river banks where scores of little boats were drawn up on the mud, flat-roofed houses close packed above the high-water line, a patchwork of sailer fields, berry bushes and vegetable plots sprawling beyond them. The many-layered greens of untouched forest couldn't be seen till the first hills began to rise in the far distance. The wide river valley was home to a multitude of Ulla Safar's people.

  'They're close enough,' Kheda assured her.

  Close enough to come and rescue us, if we have to take the little skiff concealed in this great galley's holds, handpicked crew hidden among the unassuming oarsmen. You may think you have the Daish rulers held close, Ulla Safar, but did your father never teach you how a palm finch can slip through the bars of a cage built to hold a mountain hawk?

  Telouet was watching Itrac thoughtfully. 'Until you have a body slave of your own again, you don't go anywhere without me or Birut, my lady of Chazen.' He added the courtesy of her title a little belatedly.