Empire Of Blood rb-23

by Джеффри Лорд

  «There may be some among you who do not wish to sail for the Five Kingdoms. So be it. You will not suffer in any way for this choice. It is yours to make. Come to me, say that you have chosen, and I will inscribe your name on a list. All on that list will be set ashore where there is food, water and people who may send messages. All of them will have the chance to return to the service of His Sublime Magnificence Kul-Nam of Saram.»

  Blade rolled out the name of the Emperor as sarcastically as he could. He drew a good deal of laughter, and he was interested to see that not all of it was from the rowers. Apparently some of the freemen felt as Blade did and were happy to be able to show it, now that they were for the moment beyond the Emperor’s reach.

  Blade again waved the men to silence and continued. Now both his face and voice were grim. «If you do not return to Saram, do not think to continue serving the Emperor by trying to betray your shipmates. The first sailor or soldier who speaks a word or raises a hand against us will not only be ending his own life. He will put all those who were his comrades in danger. We sail as the men of Kukon, with no place aboard for traitors or cowards.» He touched the hilt of his sword to give extra force to his words.

  Blade did not care to end his speech with a threat, but he didn’t feel he had any choice. There were too many men aboard of the sort likely to respect nothing but force, or at least the threat of it. The men of Kukon, were not yet a band of brothers, and there was no sense in thinking otherwise.

  Most of the freemen were glad to stay beyond the Emperor’s reach if Blade was willing to have them and lead them. Very few came to ask him for help in returning to Saram. Most of them were older men, with families or property at home. None of them had much hope of saving their own lives by returning home. The Emperor’s wrath would fall on anyone who had been at all involved in the disaster to Sukar’s squadron. But they all hoped to keep their homes from being razed into rabble, their wives sold to brothels, their children sold as farm slaves, and the old or infirm among their families killed outright.

  Blade felt sorry for these unfortunate men and determined to find some way of avenging them. Fortunately, there were less than thirty of them. The attitude of the rest was summed up fairly well by the words of one young gunner.

  «Captain Prince Blade, I haven’t anything to keep me in Saram, thank the gods. I can live better on crusts of bread out of Kul-Nam’s reach than on beef and fine wine in Saram. The Five Kingdoms for me.»

  When everyone finished making up his mind, Blade found he had more than a hundred and eighty able-bodied men. That would not be enough to take Kukon into battle. It would be more than enough to take her across to the Five Kingdoms.

  Then everyone went to work. Trees were cut down, trimmed, then wedged and tied into place as new masts. Water barrels were refilled, fish and birds caught and salted down, and edible nuts and roots picked or dug and stowed away. The gunpowder was dried out in the sun. The smashed decks, gangways, and cabins were patched up as well as possible. In the smelly darkness of the hold, twenty men worked night and day with timber, nails, pegs, and a barrel of tar, patching up the hole torn by the pirate galley’s ram.

  All of this took ten days-disagreeable and nerve-wracking days for Blade. He was the captain of a ship as helpless as a beached whale. Every day spent here meant one more day when either pirates or Imperial galleys might enter the cove and finish the work done in the battle.

  Thanks to Blade’s driving leadership and the hard work of everyone under him, Kukon’s work was finished first. On the eleventh day he took her out to sea for a brief trial cruise. On the morning of the twelfth day, Kukon’s men saluted their shipmates who lay buried on the shore of the cove, then weighed anchor and set sail for the Five Kingdoms.

  Chapter 16

  The voyage from the coast where the cove lay to the nearest landfall in any of the Five Kingdoms normally took a week in good weather. Blade hoped they could slip across the Silver Sea without seeing anyone or being seen. Although Kukon and her men could now fight something more than three old women with brooms, Blade still had no wish to risk his undermanned, battered ship against an enemy. A few of the hotter-headed crewmen thought otherwise, but Luun and Dzhai kept them in line.

  Kukon made it across the Silver Sea without even sighting another ship. She also made it in five days instead of a week, but she nearly went to the bottom in the process. A freak gale blew up out of the northwest, driving them along faster than Kukon had ever gone before. Both the jury-rigged masts were lost, as were half the remaining oars. But the oars didn’t matter, because no one was rowing. Those who weren’t manning pumps and buckets to keep the galley afloat were huddled in corners out of the wind and spray, vomiting or praying or both.

  Blade, Luun, and Dzhai got very little sleep during those five days. If they were not urging on the men at the pumps, they were struggling with the tiller. If they were not struggling with the tiller, they were helping to lash the cannon securely. Several of the wounded died, and several able-bodied men were maimed when half the water barrels broke loose, smashing themselves to pieces and drenching the powder all over again.

  Dzhai found a grim amusement in joking with Blade about the weather. «It’s your fault, Captain. You prayed too hard to the weather spirits to send us concealing weather. They heard you, and they do their best for those they hear!»

  Blade nodded, trying to match Dzhai,‘s tone. «I know. But I didn’t ask them to hide us by sinking us to the bottom of the sea!»

  The storm finally began to fade on the fifth day, although gray seas still rose high around the laboring galley and her weary crew. The men at the pumps worked in water only up to their knees instead of up to their waists. Even the seasick began to crawl out of their corners and get back to work. Once more luck and seamanship and a stout ship had brought them safely through.

  The island rose out of the sea to greet them, looming against the dawn. The face it presented to them seemed to be all towering gray cliffs and enormous, jagged boulders with white fringes of foam as the last dying waves of the storm broke over them. The wind had died away, and the boom of the surf and the scream of gulls clearly reached Blade’s ears.

  «Where are we?» asked Dzhai.

  Blade frowned. «That should be the West Cape on the island of Parine.»

  «Should be?» said Dzhai.

  Blade shrugged. «If my navigation is right, it should be.»

  That was a good-sized if. For five days the storm had completely shut out Blade’s view of the sun and stars. The island rising out of the sea before them should be Parine, seat of a semi-independent principality under the Kingdom of Nullar. In any case, they were not going to make a landing here, whatever the island might be. Anyone who didn’t die in the surf would face a first-class job of mountain-climbing on the cliffs. Blade mentally flipped a coin to decide whether they should turn to port or starboard, then nodded to Luun.

  «Starboard. We’ll look for an easier landing spot.»

  As Kukon ran to within a mile of the cliff, Blade saw red smoke whirling up from a signal fire just inland. Small figures scuttled along the top of the cliff, and then three white smoke puffs appeared as three cannon fired, seemingly as signals or warnings rather than with the idea of hitting the galley. As a precaution, Blade ordered the rowers up to fast cruising stroke and held them at it until they were a good three miles offshore. At that distance nobody on land could do more than make faces at them.

  As Kukon swept along the coast of the island, Blade became more and more certain he’d found the correct landfall. The island seemed endless. The coast remained steep and rugged, but inland Blade could see the green of fields, vineyards, and olive orchards. A single mountain like a black stone tooth rose against the sky, a faint shimmer of snow still crowning it. All of this matched what Blade had learned of Parine from the charts and sailing instructions salvaged from the officers’ cabins.

  Kukon rowed steadily along the coast throughout the morning. Fishing boats bega
n to scuttle frantically for shore as they sighted the approaching galley. Finally they rounded a tall headland crowned by a square-towered castle and found themselves off the narrow entrance to an almost completely landlocked harbor.

  «That’s Parine,» said Blade decisively. There was no other island in the whole Silver Sea this large and with a harbor like the one they saw before them. «Let’s go in and pay our respects to the prince.»

  «Princess, Cap’n,» said Luun.

  «Princess?»

  «Aye.»

  Blade extracted from Luun a brief explanation. The current ruler of Parine was the Princess Tarassa, widowed daughter of the previous ruling prince and regent for her son until he reached the age of eighteen. As he was now only five, Parine faced a long regency. It was said the King of Nullar doubted the wisdom of leaving a woman in charge of such an isolated and valuable part of his realm. However, no one on any of the nine islands that made up the principality would submit to any other rule. The princess was a formidable woman, not necessarily loved but greatly respected and trusted by her subjects. So the King of Nullar held his peace and Princess Tarassa held the regency of Parine.

  The principality itself was neither wealthy nor poor. Its people seldom made great fortunes, but equally seldom went hungry. The islands had few trees, so the principality had few ships. It did have good, strong forts and notoriously tough fighting men. It had defended itself magnificently a hundred years ago against the usurping Emperor of Saram and had fought off pirates raids several more times since then. By now all nine islands had a firm reputation as nuts too tough to be worth cracking.

  Kukon rowed in through the entrance to the harbor in the shadow of high cliffs crowned on both sides by heavily armed forts. Inside the harbor, three oared gunboats took up a raking position off her stern. Two more rowed up to her bow. An officer standing by the mast of one shouted across.

  «Ship your oars, bring your men up on deck, and we’ll tow you in. You’ve got five minutes; then we open fire.»

  «Friendly bastards, aren’t they?» said Dzhai sourly, as he started giving the necessary orders.

  Blade wasn’t surprised. This was a Dimension where everybody seemed ready to behave like hungry wolves. The only way a small principality like Parine could survive was by looking like too tough a mouthful for even the biggest and hungriest wolves.

  The gunboats towed Kukon up to the main quay and rested on their oars, guns loaded and aimed, while the mooring parties tied the galley firmly in place. A welcoming committee came down the quay, two officers on horseback and two more in sedan chairs. All four came stamping up the gangplank onto Kukon’s deck as if they owned it and faced Blade as if he were a criminal under interrogation.

  «You will chain your rowers at once,» said the first officer.

  «I will do nothing of the kind,» said Blade, crossing his arms on his chest. «All are freemen now, and none of them shall ever be chained again aboard this ship.»

  «Then-you are a pirate ship?» said the second officer, tugging at his beard in apparent confusion.

  Blade shook his head. «We are not a pirate ship,» he said sharply. «In fact, barely two weeks ago we sank two pirate ships and slew the crew of a third in a great battle off the islands of Nongai.»

  «We have heard of no such battle,» said the third officer, and the other three nodded in agreement.

  «The officers of the principality of Parine don’t know everything, even if they think they do,» put in Dzhai, grinding the words out one by one between clenched teeth. His face was turning red with irritation that would be rage in a moment.

  The first officer shrugged. «Very well. You are neither a galley of the Emperor nor one of the pirates of Nongai. Then what in the name of all the spirits of all the seas are you?»

  Blade had to admit that was a reasonable question. After battle, mutiny, rough repairs, and the storm, Kukon and her crew looked like nothing ever seen before on the Silver Sea. Her designer would have a heart attack if he could see her now, and her builders would die laughing.

  «We were once a galley of the Emperor’s service, this is true. We have fought in a great battle against the pirates, a battle that did take place whether or not you believe us. Now we are a crew of freemen, sailing under no flag. I am the captain of Kukon. My name is Blade. I am a Prince of England, a distant land south of the Steppes, enslaved by the Emperor of Saram. I and all the men of Kukon come to Parine in peace, seeking a friendly reception, which we have not as yet received-«

  The first officer laughed. «There is no such land as England. Whoever and whatever you are, you lie. Her Grace Tarassa of Parine has no love for liars. We, her officers-«

  «-are not worthy of her,» put in Blade, his voice hardening. «I would have expected them to show better manners to strangers than does His Sublime Bloodthirstiness Kul-Nam of Saram. I see that I am likely to be disappointed and that the tales of Her Grace’s wisdom were just tales.»

  There was an angry growl of agreement from the men on Kukon’s deck and a ripple of movement that ran from aft toward where Blade and the four officers stood. Blade realized that his crew might soon reach the end of their patience and heave the four officers into the harbor or batter them to death with oars and boathooks. Then there would be a bloody shambles, ending in death for everyone aboard Kukon.

  The four officers seemed to realize the same thing and lost interest in having more fun at Blade’s expense if the price of their fun would be their own deaths. Their eyes met, and the first officer spoke to Blade.

  «Captain-Blade, it is not for us to decide who you are or what this ship may be. That is for Her Grace to decide, and Her Grace alone. Do you consent to accompany us into her presence, along with one of your officers?»

  Luun and many of the crew laughed out loud at the officers’ sudden about-face. Blade kept his own expression serious and turned to Dzhai.

  «Captain Dzhai, will you accompany me to pay our respects to Her Grace Princess Tarassa and assure her of our friendship?»

  Dzhai took his cue and nodded soberly. «I will, my lord prince.»

  Now it was Luun’s turn. «Officer Luun!»

  «Aye?»

  «You are in command of the ship until Dzhai or I return.»

  «Aye.»

  «If neither of us has returned by sunset, you may assume that we have met with treachery. You shall then put all Her Grace’s men ashore, send the men to their battle stations, and depart from Parine.»

  Luun frowned. «We ‘ud rather coom up arter ye.»

  Blade shook his head. «There will be no effort made to rescue either of us. Think only of the safety of the ship and the other men, not of us.»

  Reluctantly Luun nodded, and raised one knotted, hairy hand in a ragged salute. «Aye, lord.»

  Blade turned back to the four officers. «Are you ready to take Captain Dzhai and me before Her Grace?»

  The four officers stared, and one of them waved a hand in Blade’s general direction. For a moment Blade was certain someone was going to raise objections to his or Dzhai’s clothing. He counted to ten, then twenty. By the time he’d counted to thirty, the officers had apparently thought better of making any such remarks.

  «Come, then,» said the first officer. He turned and led the other three down the gangplank. Blade followed, and Dzhai fell in behind him.

  Chapter 17

  Beyond the fortified gate at the foot of the quay, Blade and Dzhai mounted small, sturdy horses and rode up the narrow, twisting street from the harbor.

  Overhead the upper stories of the stone houses almost touched, throwing the street below into shade. On either side cobbled streets hardly wider than alleys wound away out of sight. Blade caught distant glimpses of yellow-and red-tiled roofs with white brick chimneys. Beyond the roofs was blue sky with patches of clouds and mountains studded with olive groves.

  At the top of the hill the city’s walls curled around the rim of the harbor. Here a dozen more mounted men joined the party. They rode on
through a gate that was almost a tunnel. The walls were thirty feet thick at the base, built of enormous blocks of blackish stone now crusted and green with immense age. Then they rode out into the sunshine.

  Blade looked back at the city’s fortifications as they rode on. At intervals of a hundred yards the great wall was broken by towers. From ports in the towers peeped the muzzles of guns. Everything in sight was massive and square. The fortifications of Parine were old, but certainly the city would not fall easily. An army with less than five thousand men and a good array of heavy guns would be wasting its time trying to take Parine. As for anything in the harbor-As for anything in the harbor, if it did come to a fight Kukon and her men were finished. All they would be able to do against the guns and the forts would be to die gallantly.

  Blade had never expected anything else. He and Luun had been putting on an act for the benefit of the officers. They were pretending to be completely careless of the odds against them, ready to fight, apparently believing they had some chance to win, but ready to die.

  Their bluff might work. A man who appears not to care whether he lives or dies is a terrifying opponent. Most people will get out of his way, and few will casually provoke him. Blade had done his best to intimidate Tarassa’s hot-tempered officers into keeping the peace.

  The road from the city wound toward a range of hills that spread across the northwest horizon. It passed through more olive groves, vineyards, stone-walled fields where goats roamed, and groves of squat, spreading trees with dark wood and pale bark. Blade saw men at work in those groves, cutting down some of the trees and sawing them up into planks. The wood seemed as hard as iron-Blade saw the man gasping and their bodies running with sweat. The planks-themselves looked far too small to be of much use for building.

  Dzhai noticed Blade’s curiosity. «They make barrels, Prince Blade. They cut the planks up into staves and then make barrels, which are very tough and strong. Sometimes they last for years on the bottom of the sea, and when they are picked up the wine or grain inside is still good.»