by Dave Duncan
“Well?” Shandie demanded.
“Not well, Highness,” Umpily puffed. “I… I saw no vision at all.” His flabby features seemed unusually rigid and pale.
“That was unfortunate,” Shandie said cautiously. “I expect the light was wrong, or the pool exhausted by its efforts. Let us be on our way, gentlemen. We have a long, hard journey ahead of us.”
Strange intelligence:
Say from whence
You owe this strange intelligence? or why
Upon this blasted heath you stop our way
With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you.
— Shakespeare, Macbeth, I, iii
SEVEN
Currents turn awry
1
“Well, I don’t think it’s fair!”
The king and queen of Krasnegar were eating breakfast and Princess Kadie was adjusting the universe to fit her needs and wants, as usual.
There was no one else in the great hall. As always in early summer, the whole castle seemed deserted. Almost everyone was over on the mainland or gone fishing. Rap had been spending much time in the hills, checking on the livestock, but he’d taken a night off to come home and get to know his family again.
He awoke from a reverie, realizing that Inos had not answered Kadie’s comment and so must be leaving it for him. Someone had eaten all his porridge… didn’t matter, he wasn’t hungry now.
“Sorry! I was daydreaming. What was the question?”
His daughter impaled him with a disapproving expression she had inherited from her mother. “I don’t think the corporal should be allowed to have Gath on his team!”
Several responses were available: What team? for example, or Why not? or even What corporal? although that one would probably prompt a screaming fit—except that he hadn’t witnessed any fits from Kadie for a while. The twins were growing up, and she was doing it faster than her brother, which was to be expected. Kadie was thirteen and a half going on thirty. This morning she was dressed as if to attend a wedding, which was normal.
“Why isn’t it fair?” he asked.
His daughter tossed her black mane in exasperation. “Really, Daddy! A fencing contest where one of the players is… uses… Well!”
He must be behaving very stupidly if he was Daddy. “Uses what, Kadie?” he said, applying a parental glare of moderate intensity.
She dropped her eyes. “Well, everyone knows!” she muttered.
“Knows what?”
“That Gath is a seer, of course! That’s why it won’t be fair to let him be on the boys’ team. No one can ever lay a button on him. Not even the corporal!”
Rap glanced at Inos and saw a flicker of the distress she showed every time Gath’s powers were discussed. She blamed herself, of course, which was stupid.
And this argument was unnecessary at the moment. Summer had barely opened the causeway again and yet Kadie was planning a winter fencing carnival. Kadie had become a complete fanatic about fencing, predictably infecting all her friends. Rap still had not adjusted to the idea of girls fencing, but he had certainly learned not to laugh at it when Inos was within earshot.
“I didn’t know Gath had even been near the gym,” he said. “I certainly didn’t know he’d taken up fencing.”
“He hasn’t. Not like the rest of us.”
“Well, that helps even out the odds, surely? If he doesn’t practice, it does. I can guess what his defense is like. How’s his attack?”
“Awful! The corporal says he isn’t aggressive enough.”
“There you are then. It cancels out.”
Kadie rose with great dignity. “I see. Fairness is relative! Boys are different. Of course! Now, if you will excuse me, dear Mama, darling Papa, I have an appointment with my coiffeuse. But I still consider it very… er, unfair… to permit occult abilities in mundane athletics!”
“Kadie!”
Again the princess tossed her hair—Rap wondered what Inos would say if he proposed a law making long hair illegal in the kingdom. No, he wouldn’t risk it.
Kadie sat down in a sulk. “Just because you won’t let me talk about them doesn’t mean that everyone else doesn’t know.”
“Now, wait a moment, love,” Rap said. This ought to be investigated. He knew how he had suffered from having a reputation for magic in Krasnegar, and he had been several years older than his son was now. “What exactly does everyone know?”
His daughter pouted. “They know you can’t sneak up behind Gath. Throw something and he isn’t there. Flip a coin and he’ll call it right a dozen times in a row!”
“Gath will really show off like that?”
“Yes!” Kadie said. Then she added, “Sometimes.” That probably meant, “Once.”
“Then I apologize and I agree he shouldn’t be allowed on a fencing team.”
Kadie bounced up jubilantly and withdrew, flouncing off along the great hall.
“Sounds like Gath’s adjusting,” Rap said hopefully.
Inos nibbled a piece of crusty roll, eyeing him with a fond smile in her so-green eyes. “Oh, I think so. Remember telling me once that all occult talents had a mundane equivalent?”
“No. Did I say that? Sounds like a pretty dumb remark.”
“One of your best, dear. But I think in Gath’s case it may be true. He’s always had a sort of talent for staying out of trouble.”
“Kadie makes up for it.”
Inos shook her head. “Kadie’s normal. Gath… He hasn’t come to me with a bleeding knee since he was a toddler, and some days I seem to spend half my time being court nurse, bandaging battered children. It’s very rare for Gath to be involved when the gang of them gets into really serious mischief. He’s always just somewhere else.”
There might be some truth in that. Troublemakers were noticed, but good behavior tended to be overlooked. Gath had never been a problem. “He’s got too much sense,” Rap said.
“He’s not stupid,” Inos agreed, “but he’s no mental giant, either. At his age it can’t be experience, so what is it?” She reached across the plank table and clasped her husband’s hand. “He’s managing, that’s what matters!”
“If he’s showing off for the other kids, then he must be.”
“His friends are starting to adjust, too. You look! Quite often now he wanders around with that dreamy old smile of his as if he hasn’t a care in the world.”
“Or can avoid it if he has?” Rap hated to think about foresight and premonition, because they always tied his mind in knots. Even as a sorcerer, he had never completely understood them, and much of that arcane understanding was now lost to him. His mother had been a seer, able to foretell such things as the sex of babies. Or so he’d been told—he didn’t remember her very well. Gath’s talent was different, though. At times he seemed to be living a few minutes ahead of everyone else.
“Here he comes now,” Inos said. “And what did I tell you?”
Gath was sauntering along the room toward them, a gangling boy with his hands in his pockets as usual and his hair a silver bird’s nest. His expression suggested that he was finding the world interesting but not threatening.
Kadie wasn’t the only one starting to sprout. Gath had always been tall for his age, and of course it was the big ones who went over the wall first. He was still a kid, but he was almost as tall as his mother, all spindly arms and legs.
He sprawled on a bench, stretching out his oversized feet. “It will be soon,” he told his father solemnly.
Rap swallowed the greeting he had been about to pronounce. “What will be what soon?”
“A good morning.”
Rap glanced up at the windows. Rain in Krasnegar was a rare event, but there was certainly rain falling now. And that was fortunate, because he had a whole mountain of bills of lading to inspect. The first ships had arrived. If there was anything missing, anything Krasnegar might need over the coming winter, then the orders must be sent back at once or there would be no time for delivery before the ice ca
me in again. The rain would keep him dutifully working indoors, not wasting time in frivolous pursuits.
“It stops in about half an hour,” Gath explained seriously.
Rap gave him a baffled look. He suspected he had just noted a twinkle in those deep gray eyes, but he wasn’t sure. A thirteen-year-old should not be inscrutable like that! “I have a pile of accounts to go over this morning with Master Gracker.”
“No, sir. You and me go down to the docks.”
Now, that was a specific prophecy! Whatever powers his faun grandmother might have had, Gath’s range seemed to be little over an hour, or two at the most. Moreover, as far as Rap had been able to discover, he was limited to knowing things before he should know them. He apparently could not prophesy for others. He knew the rain would stop because he would see it stop.
So what happened if Rap rushed him down to the dungeons and locked him up there for an hour, so that when the rain did stop he couldn’t know that the rain had stopped? That would mean he couldn’t have made the statement he’d just made, wouldn’t it?
Except that Rap would never do any such thing.
And now the boy had just come out with another extremely specific, verifiable prophecy, something he rarely did. What happened if Rap refused to go down to the docks? This was going to be interesting, because Rap had no intention of going down to the docks this morning. He had far too much work to do. Why should he…
“To see Captain Efflio,” Gath explained.
“Give me one good reason… The one who brought the horses last year?”
Gath nodded. “No. Mostly rope this time. He thinks you can trade it to the goblins.”
Rap took a deep breath. “Even the prospect of a shipload of rope will not—“
“Something to do with… Shandie?” Gath said, screwing up his eyes. “It’s not clear yet, but… Shandie? Who’s Shandie?”
“What are you talking about?”
“News from Captain Efflio. Yes, he is.”
“Is he going to…”
Rap abandoned the question. Inos was watching the exchange with barely suppressed laughter. Efflio had been much better informed about the current news in the Impire than most sailors who called at Krasnegar, so a talk with him was an attractive prospect. It almost justified taking the morning off work. And Gath’s shoulders were damp! That meant —
A flicker of uneasiness crossed the boy’s face. “There’s something about the castle gate. Dad… I have to go outside before I know what’s going to happen outside.”
So he’d discovered the shielding? Never mind Captain Efflio! The time had come for another father-and-son…
“I knew you would!” Gath said happily, and now there was no denying the gleam in his eyes, or the smile of triumph he was trying to hide.
Rap pulled a ferocious mock scowl at his son’s glee, hiding his own relief. Obviously Gath had adjusted to his new talent to the point where he enjoyed showing off with it, as Inos had said. That man-to-man talk was overdue. But if Rap was going down to the harbor with Gath, then he needn’t trouble Master Gracker. “Run and —“
“I already told him,” Gath said smugly.
As king and prince left the barbican and hurried across the courtyard outside. Rap noticed with amusement that his lanky companion was taking strides as long as his own, although he had to strain to do so. The rain was definitely relenting, blue sky showing to the west, but man and boy headed for Royal Wynd, which was one of the town’s many covered ways. The first stretch was very steep and at present deserted, so they let their feet run away with them, leaning back for balance, footsteps drumming eerily in the shadows.
They slowed down for the first stairs, grinning at each other. Gath was glowing with wordless bliss at being with his father, which raised a question Rap had been considering for some time. The citizens of Krasnegar all started work as children. Princes and princesses had schoolwork to occupy their childhood, but those were suspended during the summer. There was no reason why he should not take Gath with him when he returned to the mainland, at least for a week or two. It would be dull for him, and wearying, but perhaps also a glimpse of his own future. When Royal Wynd entered Pirates’ Walk, Rap turned to the boy to ask if he would like to come—and saw the answer already on his face.
“What am I going to ask you?”
Gath’s happiness flickered briefly. “Don’t know the words. We’re going to talk about me coming with you to the mainland.”
Rap nodded, while his mind worked that out. He could not shake the feeling that there was an impossible paradox lurking somewhere in Gath’s odd talent and yet he could not corner it. In this case, Gath had known what Rap was going to say and then Rap had not said it. But the paradox escaped again, because Gath had brought up the subject… or did it?
Gath was soon insisting that he would not mind sleeping in tents, missing meals, riding all day, being drenched, burned, frozen, or any of the other horrors Rap described. He seemed to welcome such prospects. He insisted he had no plans for the next few weeks, nor would he mind leaving his friends.
His father felt a twinge of uneasiness at that, but he agreed he would take an apprentice along on his next trip to the mainland. He was fairly certain that his son had known all about that decision when he entered the great hall an hour ago.
Less than a year had gone by since Rap had worried that Gath never seemed to do anything on his own. Now he was concerned that the boy had become a loner. Truly parenthood was a course in gratuitous anxiety!
Two women locked in a corner gossip broke off long enough to bob their respects to the king. The king greeted them both by name, wishing them good morrow. Man and boy crossed the wagon road then and the rain was barely noticeable. They continued by way of One Weaver’s Steps.
“Gath?”
“Yes, sir?” There was a guarded expression on the boyish face now.
“You mind talking about your… talent, premonition, whatever it is?”
“No. ’Cept it’s hard to explain.”
“Well, don’t worry if you can’t put it in words. I’m just curious to know how you see the future. When I’m being a sorcerer, I can do some of it, of course.”
“Oh! You can? You really can?”
Rap should have told him so sooner. The poor kid was showing large quantities of relief, just because he’d been told he wasn’t any more of a freak than his father.
“For me it’s a real effort. You seem to do it all the time.”
Gath nodded. “Can’t help it.”
“I know of two ways. I can use premonition, where I just think about doing something, then about doing something else, and then decide which one feels better. That only works on me myself, though…”
Gath was already shaking his head.
“The other way is foresight,” Rap said. “But that takes a huge effort and usually you see so many possibilities that you can’t make any of them out clearly. That works best on other people. Once in a while you run into a destiny, where the Gods have decreed that…”
He choked into silence, remembering the terrible prophecy he had been given. Fortunately Gath had not noticed his confusion.
“Not like that, either, sir,” he said. “I don’t think I can see destinies.”
That was one blessing, anyway.
“The only way I can tell you,” Gath went on, scowling at his feet as he walked, “is it’s like having a candle in the dark. Other people seem to be walking with their eyes closed, falling into puddles and tripping over rocks. I can see the road ahead, for a little way.”
“Hey, that’s a good description! So you can go around the puddles?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes they’re unavoidable, like algebra. Sometimes I run into things I didn’t expect, or didn’t see in time. It’s nothing much, really, Dad.”
“I think what you have is called prescience. I never tried that, but I suppose I could have if I’d wanted to. The name’s not important. What matters is that it’s a great gift!
Be proud of it and use it well. Don’t use it to aid the Evil.”
Being thirteen, Gath of course wanted to know how his prescience could be used to aid the Evil. A few moments later Rap was able to change the subject and talk about the castle shielding.
He stopped where the way divided. “Let’s run a test here,” he said. “We can go on down Peddlar Alley, or we can walk on the wagon road, since it’s stopped raining. Can you say who we’ll meet in either case?”
Gath was staring down the rain-wet street. “If you go that way, Dad, you’re going to run into the bishop.”
“God of Horrors!” Rap said. “You’re right. Quick!” He dived into Peddlar Alley with his son at his heels, and they did no further experimentation in the occult before they reached the harbor.
2
During the previous winter, Captain Efflio had taken Sea Beauty south and revisited Impport, his childhood home. He had even located his long-lost daughter. But Impport had failed to live up to his memories of it, and his daughter’s household had been a madhouse of rampaging children whose antics had done terrible things to his asthma. His son-in-law was a hair-raising religious fanatic. Efflio had abandoned dreams of a quiet retirement there.
Then a profitable cargo had brought him north again to Pamdo Gulf in the spring and another idea had germinated. He had encountered an ambitious jotunn sailor named Bithbal, who had some money to invest—jotnar and money were an unusual combination. The final straw had come aboard when Efflio had mentioned to Krushbark that he was considering a voyage to Krasnegar. The big man had just said, “Where?” with a totally blank expression. Krushbark’s devastated face quite frequently wore a blank expression, but the discovery that the bosun had already forgotten that peculiar little town settled the matter for Efflio. One thing an imp could not resist was a mystery.
So here he was back in Krasnegar. It had not changed at all, although the harbor was busier, this early in the season. Purely on spec, he had brought a cargo of hemp, with some idea that it might be profitable. He had also brought Bithbal.
