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City of Jade: A Novel of Mithgar

Page 33

by Dennis McKiernan


  “Yeah, but we won’t be there to see it, to see Rackburn and the others get what they deserve, especially Tark and Queeker.”

  Pipper frowned and then brightened. “Tell you what, Bink: let’s sail with the Eroean on this mission. I mean, Captain Aravan says he can use someone of our skills, and who better than the nephews of a King’s thief? And when we get back, well, we’ll just go and visit Tark and Queeker in the High King’s gaol and show them that they failed to kill us, and tell them what we did to bring about their downfall.”

  Binkton smiled. “Oh, that would be sweet. I can just imagine the surprise on their faces.”

  “If they haven’t been hanged,” said Aravan.

  “Oh,” said Binkton. “I hadn’t thought of them being hanged.”

  Aylis’s heart reached out to these Warrows as she looked at the buccen’s faces, gone ashen at the thought of anyone being hanged, even the two who deserved it.

  Finally, Binkton looked at Pipper and nodded, and Pipper turned to Aravan and said, “Well, Captain, it seems you have two more crew to feed.”

  “Welcome aboard,” said Aravan, smiling.

  And even as the buccen grinned and Lissa clapped her hands, the foremast lookout called, “Land ho, Cap’n. Port Arbalin be dead ahead.”

  41

  Fair Warning

  ELVENSHIP

  EARLY SUMMER, 6E9

  When the Isle of Arbalin hove into view, Aravan called for the Eroean to heave to and, as the ship glided to a halt, he ordered a general muster. After the crew entire had assembled, warband and sailors alike, Aravan stepped to the forerail of the aftdeck and said, “I remind ye of the oaths ye have taken. Do ye affirm?”

  All called out their yeas, including a Pysk and two Warrows, as well as a female Mage.

  “This then I would tell ye: in the City of Janjong, Lady Aylis came upon a jade statuette”—Aravan held the figurine up high—“and wound ’round the base is a strange poem, Ryodoan in nature, yet the words are not written in that tongue. The carver who fashioned the statue claims that he knew not what they meant, yet carve them he did, for they came to him in a compelling dream. Lady Aylis translated the verse, and these are the words:

  “Thrice I dreamt the dream

  From the City of Jade I fled

  Nought but shades now dwell.”

  A mutter murmured about the deck, Humans and Dwarves looking at one another, and glancing at Warrow and Pysk as well.

  “This we do know,” continued Aravan, recapturing the quiet. “The City of Jade lives in legend—a place rich in that precious stone. Yet where the city lies, none seems to know. But on the base of this carving are lines which might or might not represent its locale.

  “Lady Aylis, Lady Aylissa, and I went to the libraries in Caer Pendwyr, and we did find something else of the City of Jade: ’twas an ancient clay tablet that warns the citizens of Jûng to beware.”

  Aravan turned to Aylis and nodded, and she stepped forward to stand beside the captain and intoned, “ ‘In the near west lies the City of Jade, a place rich in spoils, but with a dreadful past. Only shades and shadows now dwell therein. Citizens of Jûng, beware.’ ”

  Again a ripple of muttering washed throughout the crew. As it died down and before anyone could ask, Aylis added, “We know not why the city was abandoned, be it disease, madness, drought, war, or other such. The clay tablet might have been written simply to keep looters away.”

  From amid the crew, Dinny called out, “Wot be these here shades, Cap’n? Be they ghosts? I mean, a shade is a ghost or suchlike.”

  Several of the sailors made warding signs at this suggestion.

  Aravan glanced at Aylis, and she shrugged. “We know not what is meant by shades and shadows dwelling therein,” replied Aravan. “Referring to ghosts might merely be to keep seekers away. ’Tis a mystery, I say, for we found nought else in the libraries concerning the City of Jade but the fables told to children at their mothers’ knees.”

  Pipper leaned over to Binkton and murmured, “I think fables often have their roots in things real.”

  “Pshh,” scoffed Binkton. “Like the River Serpent, I shouldn’t wonder.”

  “Oh, that was real,” said Pipper, his eyes wide in memory.

  “Bah. It was nothing but a wave.”

  “Oh, yeah? Well, then, Bink, why did you cry out like a youngling?”

  “Did not.”

  “Did too.”

  “Did—” But Binkton fell silent as Aravan went on.

  “This then I say: the Eroean will sail from Port Arbalin in but three days. Any and all who would not dare this found warning may stay behind, with no disgrace attached. As to whatever peril might be, it can be but something there or not. If not, then no doom will befall; if there, it might strike. If it strikes, mayhap we will defeat it, mayhap not. Even if we defeat it, there might be nothing of consequence to find. If we do not defeat it, we might all be slain, though some might live to flee. As ye can see, there are many unknowns, and so, upon this great lack of information, each of us must within three days decide to go on or not. It is a decision only each of us individually can make.

  “Remember thine oaths and say nought in Port Arbalin as ye take shore leave, nor ought in all the days thereafter, lest I give ye leave. Yet know this: the Eroean sails on the evening tide three days hence.”

  With that he dismissed the crew and called for the ship to make sail again. And within a candlemark or so, the Eroean hove into the harbor at Arbalin Bay to drop anchor under the light of the moon.

  42

  Spy

  DARK DESIGNS

  EARLY SUMMER, 6E9

  Has the vile Dolh yet taken the bait? Surely, he must have. The jade carving is in his murderous, god-slaying hands, and he would not resist the challenge.

  From leagues away, an incorporeal Nunde watched as the Eroean sailed into the bay at Port Arbalin.

  Nunde did not dare fly any closer, for Aravan’s trollop could invoke , and Nunde would not risk being revealed. No, he would stay a safe distance away. In fact, from now on, he would track the ship in the candlemarks following mid of night, when the slattern was most likely to be asleep, or at least in her quarters wildly rutting with that execrable Dolh.

  Nunde glanced up at the half-moon slipping toward the west, the lit face ebon to his astral gaze, and then he turned eastward to speed toward the place where he had commanded Malik to lie in wait.

  Leagues passed and leagues more, but at last he came to the site, and indeed Malik and the Chûn were there, just as Nunde had ordered.

  The Necromancer chortled unto himself, for surely none would escape this trap. Yet, if by some miracle the foul Dolh and his crew managed to prevail, there was always the dread creature in the tower, and that would of certain prove fatal to Aravan.

  43

  Augury

  ELVENSHIP

  EARLY SUMMER, 6E9

  On the evening tide of the third day after mooring in Arbalin Bay, the Eroean weighed anchor and raised sails and haled away from the port city. During their stay, Binkton and Pipper had written all they knew of the corruption in Rivers End, listing dates and places and names, including those they thought would bear witness—urchins and landlords and merchants alike—against Rackburn and his minions. Aravan had then escorted the two Waerlinga to the High King’s representative in town, a realmsman named Tanner.

  After he heard the buccen’s tale and accepted their documentation, he said, “We knew that something was amiss in that city, but not that it had gotten this far. After the war, with the loss of realmsmen, we found ourselves quite shorthanded—still are, in fact—and I believe that Rivers End is one place where the station is yet vacant. But, as with other places, it was and is left up to the mayor and the city watch to see things remain orderly.”

  Binkton snorted and said, “The watch? The mayor? Pah! Rat-eating Rûck-lovers all.”

  Tanner smiled and said, “Obviously, from what you have seen, indeed they hav
e succumbed to bribery.”

  “What now?” asked Pipper.

  “We’ll dispatch these papers to King Ryon on the next packet to leave.”

  “What about the birds?” asked Pipper.

  Binkton looked at his cousin as if he had gone quite batty. “Pip, what in the—?”

  “Don’t you remember, Bink?” said Pipper. “Uncle Arley told us that the realmsmen have messenger birds.”

  “Oh, right,” said Binkton, catching up to Pipper’s thought.

  Tanner shook his head and held up the papers and said, “There is much too much here for a bird to carry.”

  “Couldn’t an eagle do it?” asked Pipper.

  Tanner laughed and said, “We only have pigeons at our beck, Pip.”

  “Oh,” said Pipper, somewhat glumly.

  Tanner glanced at Aravan and shook his head in amusement, then said, “Regardless, a packet will get the papers to the High King rather quickly; I thank you for what you have done. And as far as stealing from thieves and returning the ill-gotten gains to those so wronged, well, let me just say, nicely played, lads. Nicely played. I believe the High King himself might even pin medals on your chests.”

  Pipper looked at Binkton, grinned, and received a smile in return, and Aravan said, “They come by it honestly, Realmsman Tanner. Mention to King Ryon that their granduncle is one Arley Willowbank. The King might have to look into the records of his sire and grandsire to find that name, yet it has a bearing on this duo.”

  Tanner cocked an eyebrow, and Pipper blurted, “Uncle Arley was a King’s thief.”

  Binkton nodded his agreement.

  “Ah, I see,” said Tanner. “Then he was a realmsman—or, rather, a realmsWarrow.”

  Binkton sighed and murmured to Pipper, “Uncle Arley and his secrets. Why, he was a hero, don’t you think?”

  Pipper’s eyes flew wide and he turned to Binkton and said, “The rider!”

  Binkton threw up his hands in exasperation and demanded, “What in all of Mithgar do you mean by that?”

  “Uncle Arley’s pension. The Human who brings it to the Boskydell Bank. It’s a High King’s stipend.”

  Enlightenment filled Binkton’s gaze. “Ohhhh. Why, Pip, I do believe you’ve hit upon it.”

  Even as the buccen nodded to one another and whispered about Uncle Arley and his secrets, Realmsman Tanner dashed off a quick note and placed it and the Warrows’ document into a small leather bag and locked and sealed it with wire and wax. Then he and the Warrows and Aravan went to the docks where a mail runner was moored, and they gave over the pouch to the captain, with instructions to deliver it straightaway into the hands of the High King.

  After that, they all four went to the Red Slipper for a celebratory mug of Vornholt ale. The Warrows and the full of the Elvenship complement, along with the captain and his lady, spent the rest of that day and the following two, as well as the nights between, in that wild bordello and inn, where, in the depths of the second dark night, Brekk and Dokan and the Dwarves, as well as Lissa the Pysk, officially inducted Binkton and Pipper into the Eroean’s warband.

  The next day the buccen’s heads did ache, but they grinned in spite of the pain.

  But on the evening tide of the third day they did sail, and the entirety of the crew—sailors and warband alike—came aboard. In spite of the warning of an unknown danger that might or might not be waiting, they all were eager to be off.

  As crewmen sailed the ship westerly ’pon the indigo waters of the deep blue Avagon Sea, “Where be we bound, Cap’n?” asked Long Tom.

  He stood at the map table in the captain’s salon, along with others of the crew—Nikolai, Fat Jim, Tarley, James, Noddy, Dokan, and Brekk. There also were the scouts, Lissa and Binkton and Pipper—Lissa on the tabletop, the buccen standing in chairs, all the better to see.

  “Here,” said Aravan, stabbing a finger down onto the spread-out map, indicating a coastline of a realm, the interior of which was largely blank. “ ’Tis a land that has had several names throughout the eras: Amanar, Dinou, and Ladore among them. But whatever its name, it lies between the realm of Jûng to the east and that of Bharaq to the west.”

  Aravan then pointed to where the chart showed the mouth of a river out-flowing into the Sindhu Sea. Here, too, the map beyond the river outlet showed nought of the river course itself. “I deem from the marks on the bottom of the statuette”—he gestured at the figurine sitting in the mid of the table—“represent this very river, for the coastline corresponds.”

  Long Tom reached out and took up the jade carving and turned it upside-down and aligned the etching thereon to that of the map. After a moment of comparing the two, he grunted his approval and passed it to his left, where Noddy stood.

  “Aye,” said Noddy, after his own examination, “but how do y’know that this be the particular river, Cap’n?”

  “From the clay tablet,” said Aylis. “Recall, it was written in ancient Jûngarian and said, ‘In the near west lies the City of Jade,’ and this is the only nearby coastline west of Jûng that seems to match.”

  “What we know of river, Kapitan?” asked Nikolai.

  Aravan shook his head. “Only that it is named the Dukong, and that here it flows into the sea.”

  “By the marks on that jade, if Oi’ve read them aright, Cap’n, Oi note th’ lost city be upstream somewhat. Be th’ channel woide enough t’sail upriver?” asked Long Tom.

  “Aye, ’tis wide, yet whether it is deep enough is another question.”

  “We can always send boats to row and plumb, Captain,” said Tarley.

  “Aye, we can. And if it is deep enough and remains wide, ’twould be best to take the Eroean upchannel; ’twill shorten the trek to and from the city. And, given a friendly lay of the land, it will ease the haul back to the ship of any cargo we might find.”

  A general murmur of agreement met these words.

  “But what about the peril?” asked Pipper.

  “Oh, Pip, no one knows anything about that,” said Binkton.

  “What I mean, Bink, is I believe there is one among us who can discover something about any perils we might face in the lost City of Jade.”

  Binkton sighed in exasperation. “And just who might that be?”

  “I will do a first reading,” said Aylis.

  At these words, Noddy backed away a step from the table, though Pipper looked at Binkton and grinned as if to say “See!” while Binkton mouthed a silent oh, right. Then Pipper looked across at Aylis and, fairly jittering in eager curiosity, asked, “May I watch?”

  Binkton, on the other hand, frowned, as if considering whether or not he would like to witness a Seer casting a spell.

  “Not me,” said Long Tom. “Such and such gives me th’ goosey flesh.”

  “Me, too,” said Noddy, his head bobbing up and down in agreement with Long Tom’s words, his accent slipping back to his East Lindor origins. “Oi’ll pass up sich a diminstriation, if y’don’t moind.”

  “I would like to know of anything that might put the crew in peril,” said Brekk, glancing at Dokan, who grunted his agreement. “So, if we might, we also would witness this casting.”

 

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