“Murderer? What are you talking about?”
The dragon hissed. Its steely grey eyes were fixed firmly on Murty.
“You can’t prove I did anything,” said Murty.
“I guess I can’t,” said Terrence. “But I don’t care.”
The gun fired four times and a fountain of blood sprang from Murty’s chest before Terrence had even realized that he had pulled the trigger. A look of shock crossed Murty’s face just before his eyes went dark and he fell backwards to the ground—dead before he reached the steel floor.
The dragon hissed again, and then in an eerily human sounding voice said. “Pet.”
Terrence bent down to stroke the dragon’s head, then pulled his hand back quickly as it took a vicious snap at him.
“Bloody hell! Didn’t you want me to pet you?”
Several sailors rushed into the room, following the sounds of gunfire. They quickly reported to the officer of the watch, and soon almost the entire compliment of ship’s officers arrived. Two days later, Lieutenant Staff concluded his investigation of the affair. It was determined that Maalik Murty had lured at least half a dozen children to secluded parts of the ship for the purposes of gratifying his own sick desires. Though no murder weapon was found, and there was nothing to conclusively connect him to the murders of Miss Astley or Miss Kilmurray, Staff concluded that he was the likely culprit. Most everyone on the ship agreed. Captain Dechantagne became the recipient of many kind words and pats on the back as well as the subject of a great many stories. Here was a man that not only rescued kidnapped women from strange jungle cults, but hunted down killers and rescued children from molesters.
Terrence sat in his cabin on the bed, reading from the Testament of Kafira.
And the Lord of hosts spake unto Jarum saying “I have brought you out of the land of your oppression and I shall send my angel to guide you to a new land, and my angel shall guard over you and your offspring in this new land and your house shall be prosperous.
There was a knock and Terrence got up, walked to the door, and opened it. Suvir Kesi was outside.
“I’m not coming in,” he said, even though Terrence had not invited him. “Here.”
Kesi handed Terrence a small leather pouch. “This is all there is on the ship. Don’t ask for any more.”
Terrence nodded, took the pouch, and closed the door. He locked it and leaned back against it. Opening the pouch, he pulled out a small blue bottle, identical to the bottle stashed under the mattress of his bed except that this new bottle was about half full of white opthalium, white visio, see spice. Eleven, maybe twelve doses. He would have to be thrifty. He’d have to be careful too. Yuah had proven that she could break into his cabin any time she wanted. If she came in while he was seeing, she’d pour all of his supply overboard. The little sneak. And he didn’t want her to see him like that again anyway.
Chapter Eleven: The Dance
“Uuthanum,” said the girl, and the teapot rose slowly up into the air and floated across to the other side of the table, coming to rest in front of Egeria Lusk.
“Brilliant!” said the short, fire-haired woman. “I see you will soon be as great a sorceress as your guardian.”
Zeah Korlann sat back in amazement. When he was Senta’s age, he had barely been able to write his own name. This child was some kind of magical prodigy. Zeah had often heard of secret wizard colleges where young men and sometimes women, young adults really, at the age of majority, went to study magic. Afterwards they would presumably apprentice with a master wizard somewhere. But he had never heard of a child casting magic spells.
“Where is your dragon today?” asked Miss Lusk
“He’s sleeping today.”
“All day?”
“Yup. He stays awake for two days at a time, and then he likes to sleep for four or five.”
“He sleeps four or five days straight through?” wondered Zeah.
“Yup. Zurfina says dragons sleep a lot. The older they get, the longer they sleep.”
Miss Lusk picked up the tea pot and poured more tea into Zeah’s cup, then Senta’s, and finally her own. She passed the plate around to each in turn, allowing them to take their share of the tiny sandwiches, made with meatless sausage and cheese between two crisps. They had biscuits for dessert. Miss Lusk had catered the whole tea herself. Zeah marveled that a woman who could master complex mathematical equations and create what she called “programs” for the most advanced machine in the world, could also provide a fine repast, seemingly at the drop of a hat. She had only learned that he would be available for tea the day before. She had also invited the sorceress’s ward. Had the two of them dined alone, people would have talked.
Tea with Miss Lusk presented a welcomed change for Zeah. Each day seemed to be just like the day before it. Almost all of his time was spent organizing activities for the passengers, which would provide the necessities of life or a change of pace to prevent boredom or depression caused by long confinement on the ship. The first two days after their departure from the island of Enclep, he had been occupied seeing to the inventorying and storage of the supplies purchased there. The following day, he had to arrange for the priests onboard and Dr. Kelloran to deal with a fungus infection that had broken out among many passengers and crew. The day after that had been washing day, which always kept him busy. It had ended with the death of Miss Kilmurray and the summary execution of Mr. Murty by Master Terrence. Zeah would have liked to have seen Murty tried for his crimes, but he was as loud in his laudation for Master Terrence as anyone else on the ship. His daughter could have easily have been Murty’s next target, or Miss Lusk. The following day, Zeah had organized a memorial service for Miss Kilmurray. Two days after that, when Lieutenant Staff had completed his investigation, Murty’s body, which had been kept on ice, was dumped unceremoniously over the side.
It was surprising to Zeah, who had expected that there would be a somber mood among the passengers following the memorial, but the atmosphere on the Minotaur actually seemed to lighten. There had been a cloud hanging over the lives of everyone onboard since the murder of Miss Astley, though most had not realized at the time that the murder was one of a series. Now with the murderer dead, people were much freer with their smiles, their attitudes, and their actions. Zeah had originally planned a series of games and activities to slowly raise people’s spirits, but had changed his plans and instead scheduled a dance. It took place the evening of Pentuary ninth, ten days after leaving Enclep.
The danced proved to be a great success and everyone who was there seemed to have a wonderful time. Miss Dechantagne surprised everyone by attending. She wore a beautiful royal blue evening gown with large balloon sleeves and a white satin belt with embroidered blue and silver silk flowers. She had a bouquet of fresh flowers at her waist and atop her curled auburn hair. And the bare expanse of her shoulders and the choker of pearls she wore made her long, thin neck look even more so.
Everyone admired Miss Dechantagne’s beauty, but Zeah found Miss Lusk’s charms even richer. She had arrived in a buttercup yellow gown with butterfly sleeves. The skirt had little pleated waves of fabric falling straight on the sides, and was trimmed with vines of embroidery in gold and beads extending down each side of the front. It was ornamented on one side with a velvet panel, and on the other with two large velvet bows.
Zeah had not yet spoken to either of the two women when Master Augie arrived with Dr. Kelloran. Lieutenant Dechantagne was dressed in a fine cutaway coat, which exposed a red waistcoat embroidered with a dragon motif. He had a new grey felt derby, which he must have purchased just before leaving Brech, with a red carnation in the band. Dr. Kelloran’s Thiss-green silk gown might not have stood out as much as those of yellow or royal blue, but it was equally fine in an understated way. Decorated with beads of jade and tiger-eye, it was wonderfully offset by her long white suede gloves.
Every passenger attending, especially the women, came in their finest clothes. It seemed less like a simple danc
e staged rather quickly aboard a crowded naval ship than the social event of the season. More than a few officers and sailors attended as well, and all of them wore their dress-whites. Notably absent was Lieutenant Staff, who was on duty that evening. Master Terrence was not in attendance either. Zeah thought that this was a shame, as seventy-four unmarried women, and more than a few who were married, all seemed to be looking for him.
The two most talked about entrances were the wizard Suvir Kesi and Sorceress Zurfina, whom Zeah thought must have been meeting for the first time. Kesi wore traditional Mirsannan garb—a long brown robe, lined all along the open edge with ferret skins, and reaching to short, black boots. Beneath the open robe, he wore blue silk pantaloons and a yellow and red striped silk shirt. His ever-present yellow fez with blue tassel made him visible from anywhere at the dance. Zurfina wore, or Zeah would have said “almost wore,” a black dress that was cut much like the togas worn by the ancient coastal cultures. It was loosely draped across her front, continuing to cover her breasts only through the use of magic or perhaps some kind of glue. Between her breasts, it fell to her naval and there were no sides at all above the waist. Below her waist, the dress went all the way to the floor, but there was a slit cut up one side that reached to her mid-thigh. It was the type of garment to be worn only by someone who had no care what other people thought. Zeah noticed that while many scandalized looks were aimed in the direction of the sorceress, almost no one at the dance mentioned her dress, or lack there-of. The story of her having turned a dressing maid to stone had lost nothing in the telling.
As it turned out, there was no need for Zurfina the Magnificent to be the subject of conversation. There was much to talk of. Earlier in the day, many aboard had watched a small fleet of seven ships, Enclepian Junks, sailing west toward the land that the Minotaur had so recently left. They were probably on their way back from the Mullien Islands to the feudal lands in southern Enclep, with holds full of spices and strange trade goods. Zeah was rather peeved because he had been busy at the time and had not been able to reach the deck before the square-rigged, double-ruddered, wooden sailing vessels had passed out of sight. He always seemed to miss the great sights. He had missed both the Freedonian dirigible and the school of giant whales that many passengers had noted before they had reached Enclep’s port. Despite not being able to participate in the gossip about the many strange things that had been observed from the deck of the Brech battleship, Zeah thoroughly enjoyed the dance. He danced the night away in the presence of Miss Lusk, missing only one piece, when for some unknown reason Zurfina had insisted upon his accompaniment on the dance floor.
“Mr. Korlann, you seem distracted,” said Zurfina, in her deep, sultry voice.
“I am always distracted,” said Zeah. He was in fact, trying very hard not to stare at the vast expanse of skin, which the sorceress had left uncovered. Though the two star tattoos above her breasts, which were often seen by many, were now covered, a new one around her naval was now clearly visible.
“You aren’t afraid of me, are you Mr. Korlann?”
“Of course I am,” he replied. “Does that make me less of a man?”
“No, that’s just good sense. You know, I admire you, Mr. Korlann. You have proven to be a tremendous asset to the expedition. I don’t know that Miss Dechantagne would tell you, but I will.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“It is in fact all the more impressive,” she said, “because of your social status.”
“That I’m a Zaeri, you mean?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”
He didn’t speak for a moment.
“Did you know that I’m a Zaeri?” she asked. “At least a Zaeri by birth.”
“I wondered. Zurfina was daughter of Magnus the Great, if I’m not mistaken.”
“She was, though few remember her name today.”
“Why are you telling me this?” asked Zeah.
“I don’t know. Just making conversation.”
“Do you want to become an active member of the Zaeri community?”
“Goodness no. I’ve no more interest in religion than I have in politics.”
“What are you interested in?”
“Only magic, Mr. Korlann,” said Zurfina. “Only magic.”
The day after the dance, Zeah had spent much of his time cleaning up after all of the excitement. He managed to do so before the ship arrived at its next stop. The Mulliens were an extremely long chain of islands, some quite large though none as big as Enclep, about two thousand miles east of their previous stop. None of these lands, at least none of those explored so far, had any appreciable civilization. None had important strategic resources, so far as anyone knew. For thousands of years they had marked the edge of the known world. But today the world was known to be far larger than once thought.
The Minotaur had lowered its anchor almost a mile out to sea and had launched several boats off the coast of the small island of Swentarra. There were no ports and no major settlements on the island, so the only expectation was to stock up on fresh water from the mouth of a local river. However, a dozen outrigger canoes filled with natives soon rowed out from the beach and pulled up alongside the Minotaur. They were filled with handsome brown-skinned natives of both sexes, none of whom wore more than the tiniest of colorful loin cloths. They had filled their canoes with shells and tropical fruits and in at least one case, with a bamboo cage filled with small birds. They happily bartered with the crew and passengers of the passing ship for manufactured goods and coins, using a few rudimentary Brech or Freedonian phrases and quite a bit of pantomime. Zeah had traded a few copper pfennigs and a tortoise shell comb that he had sat on and broken for pineapple, some bananas, some kiwis, and three other fruits he had never seen before. One was green and bumpy with black spots and white flesh filled with seeds. Another was a bumpy green fruit the size of a large watermelon with black flesh and tiny green seeds. The final fruit, of which he had a small bowl full, was rather like a blackberry, but instead of growing in a little clump a half-inch long, it grew out into a cylinder longer than his finger.
The next morning, when the Minotaur was once again making its way across the vast ocean, Zeah had cut and chopped all of these strange fruits and made a salad—something he had never attempted before. He had met Miss Lusk at her door and presented the salad for breakfast. They had enjoyed it on the deck of the ship, despite the rather windy conditions that morning. Miss Lusk praised Zeah’s salad so much that he could not help but be proud of himself. Then she offered to repay his kindness by inviting him to tea, and here he was sitting at the table Miss Lusk had set up in her cabin, along with the sorceress’s apprentice, enjoying tiny meatless sausage and cheese sandwiches.
“I’m going to go now,” said Senta.
“You should say ‘please excuse me, I enjoyed the tea’,” said Miss Lusk.
“Please excuse me. I enjoyed the tea.”
“Be good, sweetie,” said Miss Lusk, kissing the child on the forehead. Zeah felt his face flush with blood when he realized he was thinking about Miss Lusk kissing him on the forehead. A few moments later the girl was gone and Miss Lusk was returning to the table.
“I suppose that I should be leaving as well,” said Zeah, standing up.
“Don’t leave yet,” said Miss Lusk. “I think that we should talk about us.”
“I uh… I don’t think I want to talk about us.”
“Why not?”
“Because any discussion about us is going to leave me very unhappy,” said Zeah. “There can’t be any ‘us’, and so there won’t be.”
“Now why would you say that?”
“There are some insurmountable problems that you are refusing to see.”
“What problems are those?”
Well, the age difference for one thing.”
“The age difference is not insurmountable. I’m twenty-seven and you’re forty-eight.”
“I’m forty-nine.”
�
��You’re forty-nine. It doesn’t matter. Twenty-two years difference. Eight thousand two hundred fifty days.”
“You may be showing off your mathematics skill, but you’re not helping your argument. How many days in two years?”
“Seven hundred fifty. Why?”
“Because that’s how much the age difference is between you and my daughter. That number is actually a bit more comforting than I thought it would be.”
“Older men in Brech often marry younger women.”
“Rich older men.”
“Sometimes.”
“I’m just a butler.”
“You were a butler. Already you have moved on to a more important role in this expedition, whether you or Miss Dechantagne realize it or not. When we reach Mallon, you will find that you have far more to offer than you ever thought possible.”
“How can you know that?”
“Because I am very smart,” she said. “I am in fact, the smartest person on this ship, so you have to recognize that anything I tell you is a fact.”
“There are bigger things,” he said.
“Bigger thing, you mean,” she said. “The issue of religion.”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m a Zaeri. You are a Kafirite.”
“Do you want me to convert?” she asked.
“You have no idea what that means. You have no idea what it means to be a Zaeri.”
“No, I don’t. But I’m not really a Kafirite. My family were Kafirites. But my parents are dead now, and those family that are still alive, I haven’t spoken to in years. I don’t attend church, and quite frankly, I’m not one for ritual of any kind. I didn’t even attend my university graduation. Besides, do you know what it will be like being a Zaeri in Mallon? Is there even a Zaeri Imam among the passengers?”
“No and no.”
“Well, there you go,” Miss Lusk said, stepping to his side. “We are going to be the ones who create a life in this new world. I think we should do it together.”
The Voyage of the Minotaur Page 16
