Mitchell Graham - [Fifth Ring 01] - The Fifth Ring (v1.0)

by Mitchell Graham

  "The sergeant said we're to look over every inch of the ship. The order came direct from Vanko himself. You heard him, same as me."

  Another crash as a crate was knocked aside.

  Mathew thought quickly. There was no way out of the room they were in, and at best they had only seconds be­fore they were discovered. When they first made their way into the cable tier, he had noticed a half-finished bot­tle of rum left in the corner from some crew member's private celebration. Without hesitation, he grabbed the bottle and poured some of it on the front of his shirt and then took a long swallow. Another mouthful found its way onto Collin's shirt.

  "Hey," Collin protested in a fierce whisper.

  "Take a swallow and start singing," Mathew snapped.

  "What?"

  "Start singing."

  It took a moment for Collin to realize what Mathew wanted. Then he downed a long drink and launched into a bawdy tavern song he had heard in Elberton. Mathew joined him, rapping an accompanying rhythm on the deck with his hand.

  The footsteps outside paused for a moment, then rap­idly started down the corridor toward them. They were still singing when the door to the room was thrust open and a bright light from a lantern nearly blinded them.

  "Put that out you fool," Mathew said drunkenly, hold­ing a hand up against the light. "Do you want the captain to hear?"

  "Hey, close the door, mates," Collin said, starting to rise. Before he could fully get to his feet he bumped his head on one of the beams and sat down heavily on his backside, cursing for good measure.

  The two soldiers looked at each other. The first one shook his head, took a deep breath, then reached into the tiny room, grabbing Mathew by the back of his neck. The second one did the same with Collin. Despite their apparently drunken protests, they found themselves being dragged back through the passageway and up onto the deck. They stood there somewhat unsteadily on their feet, still held by the soldiers.

  "Hey, we don't know these men. Who the hell are you?" Collin slurred.

  The second soldier, holding Collin up by the arm, smacked him across the back of his head and said, "Keep your manners, pup. You'll live longer that way."

  Collin swung a wide punch at the man, who easily avoided it, causing him to spin by, off balance. The soldier planted a boot squarely across Collin's rear, knocking him to the deck. Out of the comer of his eye Mathew saw Cap­tain Donal and a man he took to be an officer of some sort approaching them.

  "All we could find was two drunken rats singing down in the cable tier," the first soldier said.

  "Them, and this bottle of rum they was drinking," the second soldier added.

  Captain Donal's face was red with rage. "So that's where you were," he roared, grabbing Mathew by the front of his shirt. "Caught stealing rum from the ship's store again and hiding like two children! This is the last straw. The last, I say. D'ye hear me? I'll have no more of you aboard this ship, father or no father."

  "Now what do we have here?"

  "Two boys, as got into the captain's liquor—is my guess, Sarge," the second soldier replied.

  "Who are you calling a boy?" Mathew growled. "I've beaten bigger men than you. You don't scare me any."

  The soldier holding Mathew looked up wearily and cuffed him across the ear.

  "Hey!" Mathew said.

  "Are they the only ones you found?"

  "Right, Sarge," the first soldier answered.

  The sergeant turned to Collin, who was still sitting on the deck, and said, "Get him to his feet."

  The soldier reached down and hauled Collin up.

  "Hold out your hands," the sergeant ordered.

  "What for?" Collin said suspiciously, earning him an­other clout across the back of his head.

  "Do as the sergeant says, pup. He's not as friendly as I am."

  Reluctantly, Collin held out his hands, and the sergeant examined them.

  "Now you," he said, turning to Mathew, who shrugged and put his hands out.

  "Where do you hail from?" the sergeant asked, step­ping closer to Mathew, but before Mathew could respond the man pushed him away. "Whew—they smell like a distillery."

  "They're from Wakefield," Captain Donal answered. "And sorry's the day I let their father talk me into taking them aboard my ship. They've been nothing but trouble from the very beginning. Well, that's all over with, d'ye hear me? You'll get yourselves off my ship before I throw you off myself."

  "What about our pay?" Collin asked.

  The captain wrinkled his nose and turned his head away, bellowing, "Mr. Ward, get these two drunken louts off of my deck this instant!"

  "Just a moment," the sergeant interrupted. "Open your shirts, the both of you."

  "Huh?" Collin said.

  Before they had time to react, both soldiers grabbed their arms at the elbows in viselike grips. The sergeant stepped forward and pulled Mathew's shirt open, then did the same for Collin.

  "I told you they weren't wearing any gold rings," the captain said. "They're lucky if they've got a copper elgar between them."

  The sergeant looked at their naked chests, then nodded and gave an abrupt jerk of his head toward the side rail­ing. Seconds later Mathew and Collin found themselves unceremoniously deposited into Tyraine's harbor. Their packs came flying after them, to the laughter of the sol­diers and crew lining the rail.

  Collin shook his fist in anger back at them, bringing a fresh outburst of laughter. Then they turned and floun­dered their way toward the dock. As they started swim­ming, his quarterstaff landed with a splash ten feet in front of him and he was forced to dive to retrieve it. A few men unloading barrels from a flatbed wagon stopped to watch them climb out but did nothing to help. Instead, they shook their heads at the ridiculous sight of two sod­den young men emerging from the water.

  "Mat, those comments about the gold ring . . ." Collin said.

  "I heard them. Let's get out of here. We're attracting way too much attention as is."

  "Where are we going?" Collin asked, bunching up the tail of his shirt and wringing a stream of water out of it.

  "As far away from this place as we can get. Father Thomas said to meet him at the Stone Pheasant. That's where we should head. Where's the street he showed us from the ship?"

  "Over there." Collin pointed

  After drying off as best they could, they started walk­ing. Fortunately, the day was warm and their clothing be­gan to dry quickly.

  "At least we don't smell like we took a bath in the cap­tain's rum anymore," Collin said when he stopped to take a stone out of his boot on the next street corner. "Have you ever seen anything like this?"

  Mathew shook his head. "I thought Anderon was big,

  but this place is huge. This street has got to be at least three times as wide as our main street."

  "How much money do we have between us?" Collin asked.

  Mathew stooped down, opened his pack, and fished out his coin purse. He hefted it in his hand, then spilled the contents out into his palm.

  "I've got twelve silver elgars and five coppers. You?"

  "Eight silver, four copper," Collin replied, locating his purse.

  "What happened to the rest?" Mathew asked.

  "Some crew members taught me a game with dice. I didn't do so well," Collin grumbled.

  "Well, it's more than enough for a week's lodging— meals too, I think. I'll have to remember to thank Captain Donal for throwing our packs at us. I'd have regretted los­ing my sword."

  "Zachariah nearly hit me in the head with my own staff," Collin said.

  "Be thankful he remembered it."

  The directions Father Thomas gave them proved accu­rate, and they had little trouble locating the tavern. Sur­prisingly, it was not very large. The building reminded Mathew of Devondale's Rose and Crown. Thankfully, no one paid them much attention when they entered. Over the fireplace was a tapestry depicting a now familiar hunting scene. Mathew looked at it and wondered whether all taverns contained the same pictures
.

  While they were waiting for the proprietor to appear, the room's leaden atmosphere became apparent. It was the same mood Mathew had noticed in the streets. De­spite all the activity, few people made eye contact, con­tent to attract as little attention as possible. He had hoped Tyraine at least might be different, closer to Devondale, but that wasn't the case. It hadn't taken him long to un­derstand why.

  A few minutes earlier, when they had entered the plaza Father Thomas told them about, the gallows lining the hills above the city became visible once more. There were few times in his life Mathew could remember being struck totally speechless, but he knew that sight would stay burned in his mind forever. Although still a consider­able distance away, they were far closer now than they were on the ship. Silhouettes of women and children were unmistakable, moving back and forth in the breeze. It was almost too much to bear. When Collin saw it, he let out a string of oaths under his breath. Unable to look away, Mathew kept his eyes locked on the macabre scene, wishing to God he had never seen it. Eventually, Collin had to pull him by the elbow.

  They were not in the/Stone Pheasant long before the landlord appeared. A loose-limbed, shambling sort, he looked them over suspiciously through a pair of rheumy eyes.

  "What can I do for you gentlemen?" he asked, noting the condition of their clothes.

  "I apologize for our appearance," Mathew responded. 'We had a disagreement with our former employer."

  "Disagreement? Looks more like you've been for a swim in the harbor to me. Smells like it too," he said with a sniff.

  "That's how the disagreement was concluded," Collin said.

  The landlord gave a short quick bark that started as a laugh but ended in a series of coughs.

  "We're looking for a man named Miles Vernon. We're supposed to meet him here," Mathew said.

  "Don't know anyone by that name," the landlord said when he finished coughing. "But there's a lot of new peo­ple in the city these days. Can't say I know everyone. You're welcome to look around, though. You want some­thing to eat?"

  "Thank you," Mathew said. "I suppose we could do with a meal and a bottle of wine. What are you serving today?"

  "Meat and potatoes with new spring vegetables. It's good too. Had some myself a while ago and I'm still

  standing." The innkeeper began laughing at his own joke, which only produced another series of coughs.

  "I hope that's not from the food," Collin whispered un­der his breath.

  After recovering sufficiently, the landlord said, "Take that table over there. I won't be able to serve you any drink, unless you're over seventeen—duchess's new law."

  "It's all right," Mathew said. "We're both eighteen."

  "As old as all that?" the landlord joked, not unkindly.

  "You'd think with the war, the rule would be relaxed a bit," Mathew said.

  The landlord shrugged and led them across the room. "No such luck," he said. "The Vargoth army's told every­one they're going to enforce all the laws of the province—and some new ones too. It's not good for busi­ness, but I can't complain. At least I'm still in business." Lowering his voice, he added, "That more than I can say for some."

  Collin commiserated, shaking his head.

  "Do you know where we can get a room? It's possible the man we have to meet may not arrive until tomorrow."

  "I've got a room upstairs. I can let you have it for two silvers a night."

  "Two silvers!" Collin exclaimed. "That's more than twice the price it should be."

  "Times are hard. I can't say I like it any better than you do, but you won't find a room in the city any cheaper. I'll throw in towels and a bath to boot."

  Following a brief conference with Mathew, during which the landlord politely looked away, the transaction was concluded. They sat down to wait for their food and Father Thomas.

  31

  Tyraine

  The following morning after he had finished breakfast, there was a discrete rap at the door. Father Thomas opened it to find a Vargoth mercenary standing there.

  "Commander Danus said to inform you when the man you were expecting arrived. We have him downstairs. He claims his name is Thad Layton, a silversmith from As-tara, and the boy with him is his apprentice."

  "Very good. I'll be down presently."

  Father Thomas finished dressing quickly and de­scended the stairs. Seated in the living room amidst the comfortable furniture of the former mayor were Akin and Daniel. As soon as Akin saw him, he opened his mouth to speak, but Father Thomas cut him off with a raised hand.

  "You are late, Master Layton," he said, using the Cin-car accent for the benefit of the soldiers, who were obvi­ously listening, though pretending not to.

  Akin immediately closed his mouth as soon as he heard Father Thomas use the name of their deceased friend.

  "The Sultar will not be pleased by this delay."

  There was the briefest of pauses before Akin responded. "My apologies, but we were unavoidably detained."

  "Your excuses are of no concern to me. We have paid you well, and if you want to continue to be paid, I suggest you plan your actions more carefully in the future."

  Turning to the soldiers, he said, "Do you know where Commander Danus is?"

  "I think he's down at the docks with Colonel Vanko, examining the Mirdite ship that just brought these two in, my lord."

  Inspecting their plunder, more likely, Father Thomas thought.

  He made a gesture of annoyance for the benefit of the soldiers. "Very well. Tell him to join me when he is through. The rest of you leave us, but remain close by. I must speak with this man."

  As soon as the soldiers were gone, Father Thomas em­braced them both but put a finger over his lips before ei­ther could speak. He quickly crossed the room and pulled the curtain back an inch or two, peering out the opening. Satisfied that they were alone, he came back.

  "Thank God you're both all right."

  "We're fine," Akin replied, "I didn't know what to make of it when those soldiers came for us."

  "The city is taken, as you must have already guessed," Father Thomas said. "Unfortunately, this is not the worst of it. Those soldiers are mercenaries from Vargoth. It seems Duren has convinced them to enter the war on the side of Alor Satar. They've murdered hundreds of inno­cent's already."

  "We saw on the way in," Daniel said gravely.

  "It's worse than you think," Akin said. "The day after you left, the Nyngary army crossed the border and en­tered Elberton. Duchess Elita sacrificed her personal bodyguard trying to stop them. It was no use. They were slaughtered to a man."

  "Is—"

  "Ceta is fine," Akin said quickly.

  Father Thomas suddenly felt like he had been hit in the stomach. He looked at his hands and realized they were shaking. He tried to stop them and couldn't. "I never should have—"

  "There was nothing you could have done," Daniel said, coming over to put an arm around the priest's shoulders. "She sends her love, by the way. You should have seen her—bashed one soldier over the head with a frying pan and told him to mind his manners under her roof. And he did too."

  Father Thomas put his hands over his face and drew a long deep breath. When he took them away, his eyes were red-rimmed. "She's all right?"

  "I swear, Father. She's a strong woman. You'd have been proud of her," Daniel replied. Akin nodded in agreement.

  Father Thomas closed his eyes.

  "There's more I have to tell you," Akin said. He waited until he had the priest's attention and continued. "From the time they arrived, it was obvious the Nyngaryns had no interest in Elberton. They were there for one reason and one reason only- find Mathew."

  "What?"

  "It's the ring," Daniel said. "They interrogated every­body in Elberton, asking whether they knew anything about it, or him. Eventually they found Will Tavish; or rather, he found them. Now their fleet is on the way here."

  "Their fleet?"

  "Thirty-five, maybe forty ships, and all of them pa
cked to overflowing with Nyngary soldiers. We heard that some of them were carrying troops from Cincar as well."

  'This is incredible," Father Thomas said.

  "The captain of the Douhalia cut the anchor and snuck past them at night," Akin said. "We got out just in time. They can't be more than a day behind us. Are the others here too?"

  Father Thomas shook his head. "Just Lara," he replied. "We hid Collin and Mathew when the Vargoth galleys in­tercepted our ship. I'm sure they weren't taken or I'd have heard of it by now. Our plan was to meet at a tavern called the Stone Pheasant. It's not far from here."

  "Just out of curiosity, Father, exactly what are you do­ing here?" Daniel asked.

  A smile slowly spread across the priest's face. "They think I'm the brother of the Sultar .. . and that Lara is his daughter," he answered, rubbing his chin.

  "You can't be serious!" Daniel said, getting to his feet. Akin's mouth just fell open.

  Father Thomas shrugged, looking slightly abashed. "Greed is a powerful motivator, my son. I merely ap­pealed to the commander's baser instincts. But in light of what you have just told me, we have even less time than I'd hoped for."

  "That babble you were speaking was Cincar?" Akin asked. "I confess I didn't understand a word of it. Where did you ever learn it?"

  "Oh, here and there," Father Thomas replied offhand­edly, not really meeting Akin's eyes. "The important thing is they didn't understand it either. Right now we have to figure out how to get out of this place without the company of those soldiers outside. Then we need to find Collin and Mathew as quickly as possible and leave this city. Commander Danus was accommodating enough to tell me the armies of Bajan and Cincar will be here in two days."

  "How in the world are we going to get out of here?" Daniel asked. "They took our weapons and there are five armed guards outside."

  "I still have my sword," Father Thomas said.