Master of Myth (The Antigone's Wrath Series Book 1)

by Starla Huchton

  Iris opened the door and a small, brown man in a beaten up poncho strolled into the room, another similar man behind him, though the other was much taller.

  “So sorry we are late. Something happened on a street nearby and we had to detour to get here.”

  “Something?” Danton raised an eyebrow.

  The man shrugged. “I do not know, señor. I did not stay to find out, but I think somebody died.”

  “How unfortunate,” Iris murmured, more to herself than this man.

  Without waiting for an invitation, he took a seat at the table across from Danton, and the taller of the pair leaned against the wall. “I’ve been told you can get my cargo to Singapore even with the current situation?”

  “Possibly, if the money is right. It also depends upon what it is that needs transporting,” Danton said.

  “Señor, if you are doing something illegal anyway, does the type of cargo really matter?”

  “It’s more for our captain’s peace of mind,” Iris interjected, trying to be helpful.

  The merchant shrugged. “Very well. It is a shipment of tea.”

  “Tea?” Danton asked. “Why would you be shipping tea to Singapore?”

  “Oh, this is a very special tea, señor. It is unique to Nicaragua.”

  “Tea that’s unique to Nicaragua? Surely you can’t mean sueño iluminado?” Iris said. “I thought it was only a myth.”

  He smiled slyly. “The señora, she knows. She can explain to you later.”

  “What quantity are we talking about?” Danton continued, ignoring the sidebar.

  He shrugged again. “Enough to fill the hold of the cargo ship that brought it over.”

  “You understand that I cannot guarantee Yong Wu will grant us passage, yes?”

  The two men laughed heartily. “Ah señor, I did not tell you. This tea is for Yong Wu. Why do you think he goes to all this trouble to stir up the navies and air patrols?”

  “All that for some tea?” Danton saw no sense in it at all.

  “I tell you, it is very special tea.”

  “Let me see if I understand you then.” He folded his hands and leaned forward. “Any ship that takes this cargo will be completely protected from Yong Wu’s forces?”

  “Si, but you know it will not be easy to get past everyone else. It is why I had to look elsewhere for a transport. It takes cojones to take on the law. Your captain, does he have those cojones?”

  It was Danton’s turn to laugh. “I assure you, there is no captain out there with stones bigger than Captain Sterling’s.”

  “Then name your price.”

  Danton grimaced and scribbled numbers down on a piece of paper, which he handed to Iris. She glanced at it, nodded, and handed it back. He slid the scrap across to the merchant and waited for his reaction.

  His passive face told Danton nothing. The man seemed to be running figures in his head, deciding how much of his profit he was willing to sacrifice. “Agreed, but we go with you.”

  That was to be expected, but not something Rachel would be happy about. With two strangers already on board, another two would only serve to aggravate her further. As there were no other means of getting to Singapore, they would have to ride along with their cargo. This wasn’t optional. Danton sighed. “Of course. If this sits well with you, I’ll draw up a contract and we’ll begin loading whenever you’re ready.”

  “The crates can be loaded any time. We would like to depart as soon as possible.”

  “I can have the contract drawn up by morning, and you can sign it on the pier as we load. Our crew is usually able to fill our hold in six hours or less. At the latest, we would be ready to leave by dinner tomorrow.”

  He rose and extended his hand. “Señor, you have yourself a deal. My name is Juan Reyes, and this is my partner, Benedito Arroyo.”

  He smiled and shook the offered hand. “Danton DuSalle, at your service. This fine lady is Miss Singh, our first mate. You’ll meet Captain Sterling at the ship, the Antigone’s Wrath. Have your cargo delivered to dock ninety-three by six tomorrow morning and we’ll take it from there.”

  “And we leave by tomorrow night, yes?”

  “If that is what you wish.”

  Juan grinned. “It is. Until then, señor. We will see you in the morning.”

  The two men departed, leaving Danton rather perplexed. “Did that seem particularly easy to you?”

  Iris gave an innocent, yet knowing smile. “No easier than I usually find them to be.”

  He stood and sighed tiredly. “That is a wonderful trick you have. Perhaps I shall have you teach me sometime. For now, thank you.”

  “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” She smiled and flashed him empty palms.

  Danton shook his head and let it go. “We’d best be heading back then. We’ve much to tell the captain and an early start ahead of us.” He opened the door and waved her through with a flourished bow. As he trailed behind her, he spoke quietly. “Now, what’s so special about this tea?”

  She chuckled as she descended the stairs. “I will tell you when I tell the captain.”

  “The cargo is what?” Rachel was dumbstruck.

  “Tea,” Danton repeated, doing his best to suppress his laughter.

  “They want to ship tea to Singapore?” She couldn’t get a handle on it. No one shipped tea to Singapore. Out of it, yes, but not to it.

  Iris sighed. “I must explain the nature of this tea.” She leaned back in her chair, exhausted from the day’s efforts. “Sueño iluminado is no ordinary brew. In fact, it is not truly tea at all. It is an herbal infusion made from a flowering plant that grows only in Nicaragua. It is said that tribal leaders and shamans use it for vision questing. To illuminate their dreams, so to speak. That is the direct translation of sueño iluminado. It’s said they can predict the future or communicate with spirits directly under its influence. It is, however, deadly unless brewed correctly. I’ve never heard of any ever being shipped outside of Nicaragua. It must be costing Yong Wu most of his fortune to acquire as much as we’ll be bringing him.”

  “No wonder he’s taking such drastic steps to ensure it reaches him,” Rachel said, setting her chin on her hand. “Although the risk of being boarded and searched seems significantly higher this way.”

  “Not entirely.” Danton said. “If the Royal Navy and ATA are busy tracking down Yong Wu’s boats and engaging them in combat, they’ll be quite preoccupied. And, in general, most ships won’t want to risk being caught in the crossfire or being taken by Yong Wu. Since we’ll be protected on one front, we won’t have to worry about being shot on sight by his ships, and chances are high that Yong Wu will divert us from courses that would be intercepted by the Navy and Air Transport Authority.”

  Rachel narrowed her eyes. “It seems almost too good to be true. There’s no catch?”

  Danton shrugged. “The merchants want to ride along with us, but that’s to be expected. They’ve no other way of arriving before or at the same time as their shipment. As they are working for Yong Wu, I highly doubt they are Brotherhood men. They’re quite relaxed. I don’t think they’ll be any trouble at all.”

  She sat back in her chair and sighed. “Very well then. As for the other matter you attended to this evening?”

  Danton’s face soured, but he stifled his complaints when he caught Iris’s eye. “I do not believe him to be Brotherhood, either. He seemed… very nice.” His words felt less than sincere.

  Rachel raised an eyebrow at him inquisitively, but Iris interrupted. “They’re simple people. A machinist and his apprentice. He builds things on commission and needs a text translated. He’s going to Singapore for that reason.”

  “And did you see this text?” Rachel asked.

  Iris sighed in irritation. “He did not have it with him, but assured us he would produce a copy of some of it to present to you himself.”

  Rachel tapped a fingernail against the arm of the chair and thought silently. “You’re both comfortab
le with having the two of them aboard for this journey?” Iris answered immediately in the affirmative, Danton seemed hesitant. “Are you not?”

  “I don’t know what it is about this man I do not like, but I feel as though there’s more to him than we know,” he said after a moment’s pause.

  Iris smirked. “One could easily say that about any one of us, but we do not hold it against you, oh mighty hunter.”

  Rachel chuckled at this. “She has a very good point, Monsieur. So let me ask you, do you think him a killer?”

  “Non, but—”

  “A thief?”

  “Non, but I—”

  “A child abuser? A wife beater? A sex slave trafficker?”

  “Non, non, et non, but I still—”

  “And he is not Brotherhood?”

  “Non! Mais—”

  “And Iris has deemed it a good idea. Therefore, I cannot think of any reason to bar this man from boarding tomorrow… unless he is unable to pay.”

  Danton’s shoulders sagged, unable to argue with her reasoning. She could remind him that there had been far worse on board, and possibly still were amongst the crew, but she didn’t think she needed to remind him of that. Everyone had a past and things they didn’t like to discuss. Perhaps this was all he sensed about him.

  “Then I have no further objections, Captaine.” He sighed.

  “Excellent.” She clapped her hands together. “Then I believe this concludes our business for the evening.” They all stood. “Iris, send word to our passengers that we’ll be departing no later than six o’clock tomorrow evening. It would be wise for them to be aboard no later than five.” Iris nodded and excused herself. “Danton, I leave the shipping contract with you. I’ll expect it tomorrow morning before the merchants arrive so I can review it.”

  “As you wish, Captaine.” He bowed his head and took his leave as well.

  Rachel yawned. After a sleepless night at the Cheval Rouge, the memory of which caused her to smile, and a long day of preparations, she was entirely worn out. Opening the door to her private quarters adjacent to her office, it was all she could do to muster the energy to slip out of her clothing and into her long, cotton nightgown. At the last moment, she remembered her dried bouquet and placed it under her pillow. Her last thoughts as her eyes closed were of Mrs. Tweed.

  Chapter Nine

  The Passengers

  “You’re certain this man is here?” Matthias asked the boy behind the counter. It was easy enough to persuade him to answer with a small bit of coin.

  “Oui, monsieur.” He nodded enthusiastically. “He and a boy about my age came in around four this afternoon. He asked for a room about an hour later. I thought I saw him talking to some woman and another man, but I didn’t see them very clearly.”

  This did not bode well. If Mr. Jensen already procured transport to Singapore and there was no Brotherhood amongst the crew, they’d lose track of their “precious cargo.”

  “Monsieur?” The boy asked, as though the man missed him asking a question.

  “Sorry, what?”

  “Would you like me to fetch him for you?”

  He shook his head. There was no sense in alerting the inventor to the presence of those watching him. “No, quite all right. He’s a friend of a friend and I was asked to inquire about his well being. Thank you, boy.”

  He turned and exited Aux Vieilles Armes, pulling up the hood on his cloak as he did so. Outside, a voice greeted him from the shadows between the pub and its neighboring building. “Is he here, Matthias?”

  “He is. And he met with two individuals earlier today, though I was unable to determine who, exactly.”

  “It will be easy enough to find out tomorrow.” The voice sounded reassuring. “Now that we’ve located him, we’ll simply have him followed when he leaves.”

  “And what of his transport to Singapore?”

  “That may be a matter out of our hands for now. Kidham paid his penance. There are other methods of tracking Jensen. We’ll simply have to implement those earlier than we planned.”

  There was a lull in the conversation as Matthias joined the voice in the shadows. “Brother…”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you think it was… wise to send the original copy of the book to Jensen? What if—”

  “I think it is wise not to question the decisions of your elders, Matthias.”

  A sigh followed. “You’re right, as always. I’ll not question his decisions again.”

  Sunrise found Rachel, Iris, and Danton hard at work on the pier directing the men loading the crates of tea bound for Singapore. Not that Port Control knew this, of course. As far as any paperwork was concerned, this shipment was headed to Mangalore, where it would be loaded onto a train and sent by rail from there. That was not Rachel’s concern, however. That was for the two merchants to explain away.

  Danton was right about the two South Americans. They were very relaxed. So relaxed, in fact, that after the contract was signed, they spent the rest of the morning napping. They didn’t look comfortable leaning against the wooden crates, yet there they slept, their quiet snores clear indicators of their slumber.

  She worried when meeting new business associates. They always assumed she was a man, and were consistently surprised that she was not. These two were no different, but their reactions were subdued. It seemed that all of their expressions were mild variations of apathy. What an odd pair they were.

  By noon, the majority of the crates were loaded and the chow bell called the crew to the mess deck. The merchants roused themselves, if only to wander down the pier to the nearest pub. She shook her head as she watched them go, still unsure of what to think of them.

  She turned to the first mate as they made their way inside the ship for lunch. “Any word on our other two passengers?”

  “I sent a message this morning. I trust they’ll be here in time,” she answered confidently.

  Rachel studied her. “What is it about these two that has you so convinced we need to help them? I don’t recall the last time you were quite this adamant about anything.”

  Iris gave a half smile. “The last time I had cause to be was when you were of the opinion that Danton was not worth the effort to hire nor for the money he was asking.”

  This stopped Rachel as they proceeded down the passageway. “It was an outrageous amount of upgrades in the galley, Iris. I still shudder to think of it. But that’s beside the point. Are you telling me this is one of those ‘feelings’ of yours?”

  “It is.”

  “Then why in the world does Danton take issue with them being aboard?”

  Iris shrugged. “Perhaps jealousy?”

  “Jealously?”

  “I think he suspects there’s more to my motives than simply wanting to help them in their quest.”

  Rachel chuckled. “And here I thought you were unaware of his feelings.”

  She frowned. “Even if I am not interested in such things, it doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to them.”

  “I think he might not realize it himself, poor man. But after hearing of his family, I can understand why he would deny himself feelings for anyone other than them.” Rachel said no more as they entered the ship.

  Silas awoke that morning to the sound of knocking and only a slight headache from the whiskey the previous evening. Before he could answer it, an envelope slipped under the door, and footsteps retreated down the hall. Groggily, he slid out of bed. As he picked up the paper, Eddie sat up and rubbed his eyes.

  “What is it?” He yawned.

  “Dock ninety-three. Departing at six p.m.,” he read from the paper. “It seems as though we’ll be leaving this evening.”

  Eddie jumped out of bed. “Can we go early? I want to see them start up the engines and have a look at things before we go. Can we?”

  It was entirely too early for anyone to have so much enthusiasm about anything. “Easy, Mr. Maclaren. The voyage to Singapore is a long one. There’ll be ample time for you to th
oroughly investigate all corners of the ship.” Silas ran his fingers through his unruly hair and flopped back down on his bed.

  “But can we?” he repeated.

  “I don’t know, Eddie. Don’t ask me questions so early in the day. I haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

  “Well, then let’s do that. The boy that works downstairs said this place is well known for their biscuits.” He was already pulling on his socks and trousers.

  Silas muttered incoherent words at being cursed with an apprentice with so much exuberance before ten in the morning.

  They spent the day much as they had the previous one, seeing a few sights, before heading to the ship for departure. They left the Aux Vieilles Armes and headed back into the streets of La Rochelle. The two passed an old cemetery that boasted the most unusual headstones in all of Europe: a burial ground for inventors and machinists with outlandish grave markers. The highlights of the visit included a diorama of the 1862 World’s Fair with a miniaturized model analytical engine, and one man who had a generator for the cemetery built as his headstone. This in and of itself was not fascinating, but the steam whistle melody it played whenever you walked past was quite lovely. There was a playable calliope, and a massive music box with a key that required two people to wind it. It was positively hair-raising to stroll past the coiled generator within a birdcage. There had been so many fascinating things to look at that it was nearly three o’clock before they wandered out of the cemetery. With barely enough time to grab a bite to eat and retrieve their belongings, dock ninety-three and the Antigone’s Wrath beckoned.

  Rachel tapped her foot impatiently as she felt the seconds tick by. Everything was prepared for departure, yet their two mysterious passengers had not made their appearance.

  “You’re sure they received your message?” she asked.

  Iris sighed. “My message said we were departing at six. It’s fifteen minutes past four right now. They’re well within the limits I set for them. Don’t be so impatient.”