‘There are more important things for Drew to consider than me, Trent. He’s the rightful king of Westland. He has the people of his realm to think about. He’d be a fool to come looking for me.’
‘Then that makes me a fool,’ said Trent. ‘I know what I’d have done if the roles were reversed.’
‘You know how to flatter a girl, Greycloak,’ she said, trying to scoff, all too aware of the sudden heat in her cheeks.
‘Greycloak? I like it! A definite step up from Redcloak. It’s true, though. I wouldn’t have let you out of my sight. My brother’s a lucky man to have your affections.’
She gripped his hand.
‘Drew’s very dear to me, Trent. He’s a good friend, and the reason we’re fighting this war. But he isn’t the only soul who’s precious to me.’
As he turned to her she leaned in, her lips catching his tenderly. A sudden tug on the line caused Trent to lurch forward, the elusive first bite of the day catching him unawares. Gretchen pulled away as Trent fell forward, still gripping the rod whilst being hauled from the jetty. He landed with a great splash that brought howls of laughter from the Lady of Hedgemoor.
Surfacing in the river, Trent spat a mouthful of water up at Gretchen, his hair draped over his face, obscuring his eyes.
‘You look like a water hound, Ferran,’ she laughed. ‘Don’t shake your coat all over me when you get out!’
He reached up and grabbed her by the ankles, yanking her forward. She followed him into the river with a shriek, disappearing beneath the water before rising in his arms. He grinned as she spluttered in his grasp. Their laughter subsided gradually as she raised a hand to his face and drew his hair to one side. There were the bright blue eyes that she couldn’t shake from her dreams.
‘You see, my lady,’ said the boy from the Cold Coast, his teeth chattering, ‘I told you I’d catch something.’
7
The Tale of the Tiger
‘By my reckoning, we’re fifty leagues from the isle of Claw,’ said Florimo, tracing his scrawny finger over the sea chart.
‘Fifty leagues through Bastian water?’ said Vega. ‘Easy as a sunny day on Lake Robben.’
Drew and Whitley smiled at the count’s grim humour. While the rest of the Wolf’s ragtag fleet had stayed in Lyssian waters, heading for Calico Bay under the command of Baron Bosa, the Maelstrom had raced ahead of them, sailing on to Bast. All the codes of the Catlord’s navy wouldn’t help Vega’s ship approach the jungle continent. The Maelstrom was known to seafarers throughout the oceans. Any sailor worth his salt would recognize her as loyal to the Wolf, with or without Onyx’s flag flying. The route they were taking was painfully precarious, and their fortune hung on the wits of the ancient navigator.
‘I’m grateful you joined us on the Maelstrom, Florimo,’ said Drew. ‘Without your eyes and wings, I fear the Bastians would’ve found us by now.’
‘I’m grateful the count invited me along,’ replied the man. ‘I feared he’d heard enough of my shanties by now.’
‘Perish the thought, old chap.’ Vega smiled. ‘I could listen to your dulcet tones all the livelong day, although I fear your rousing songs might attract the attention of the Catlords as far off as Felos.’
‘Just how good is your eyesight?’ said Whitley, fascinated by Florimo’s airborne perception.
‘Put it this way, my lady,’ whispered the Ternlord, tapping his beaked nose, ‘I could tell you what the Lion had for breakfast in Highcliff.’
‘And the navigation?’ said Drew. ‘I’ve seen you use the maps, but there’s something more to it, isn’t there?’
‘Vega can keep his fancy sextants and astrolabes,’ said Florimo with a dismissive wave. ‘The stars make up a Ternlord’s map and compass. It’s all about the moon, young Wolf, as you should well know being what you are, all tooth, fang and frightful legend. She’s up there in the day too, mind; one just has to look that bit harder for her light. You’ve heard of the black sun, my lord?’
Drew nodded as Florimo continued.
‘We navigators call that an eclipse. That’s the moon’s work, casting her shadow over the world. And what power lies within it – a Wolf could get drunk on the black sun’s shadow. When one understands the cycles of the moon one truly understands her hold over land, sea and the lycanthropes. A good navigator can predict the weather, the season and the tides by the sky. Stare long enough and one can see the future writ there.’
‘Florimo, could you chart the weather that is coming for us?’ asked Whitley. ‘You can forecast such events before they’ve happened?’
‘Most certainly, young Bear.’
He winked before bowing low, his drooping pink feather lolling forward. ‘If you’ll excuse me, my lords, my lady, I’d best get back to work. Who knows what awaits us, and the sooner I spy it the better.’
Florimo squinted at the sky, licked a finger and held it up to the wind. Checking his bearings, he walked towards the starboard rail and unhitched his shirt, tossing it to Casper, who stood grinning nearby.
‘Watch and learn, young Seahawk,’ said Florimo with a wink. ‘Watch and learn.’
Slender white wings emerged from the navigator’s bony back, his bare feet thinning before splaying, the flesh turning red as webbing spanned the joints. His nose grew sharper, longer, the jaw joining the protrusion as together they shifted into a daggerlike black beak. The wings flapped, feathers rustling as the avianthrope lifted a foot on to the rail. As the sails clapped overhead, a gust of wind caught beneath Florimo’s wings, lifting the Weretern from the deck so he hovered elegantly over the sea. Within moments, he was rising high towards the sun, disappearing from view in a matter of heartbeats.
‘Come,’ said Whitley, patting Casper on the head. ‘Let’s get back to your ropework. I’ll show you how we woodlanders tie proper knots as opposed to the raggedy efforts you pirates work with.’
As the Bearlady and cabin boy headed towards the main deck, Drew and Vega made their way aft.
‘Casper seems very fond of her,’ said Drew with a smile.
‘He’s not used to a woman’s company,’ replied the Sharklord. ‘This is new to him.’
Figgis stood at the helm, hands on the wheel, watching the horizon. Opal stood behind him, her wrists manacled, ankles chained to the deck for good measure, out of reach of the first mate. Occasionally, Figgis glanced over his shoulder, checking that the Werepanther remained where she was.
‘Speaking of a woman’s influence, have you told Casper yet?’ asked Drew.
‘We’ve had a chat,’ replied Vega as they walked past the first mate. ‘The lad’s now aware that I’m his father. We’re building up to the conversation about his mother. In the meantime Florimo will act as a surrogate avianthrope for him. Sosha knows how one controls shifting into a hawk!’
‘You really think that old seagull can get you to Bast undetected?’ shouted Opal as the two approached. She turned to Drew. ‘Did Vega tell you how he bargained for information, little Wolf? How he threatened to kill my children?’
Drew glared at her, chained up on the deck, a sick smile upon her face. She thought she had him.
‘He told me that very thing, Opal.’
Opal’s smile slipped as Vega’s appeared. If she’d been hoping to shock him, it hadn’t worked. Drew had pressed Vega on how he’d achieved his results, and the count had reluctantly revealed his tactics.
‘An old Hawk told me not so long ago that one has to be prepared to do ugly things to win a war,’ said Drew. ‘I’m coming to terms with his words now. I wouldn’t tolerate anyone in my ranks harming a child in my presence, even the Sharklord. Still, I’m no
t the count’s keeper. One thing I do know about my sea marshal is that he’s not to be trifled with.’
‘You should have left the Bearlady to do her worst the other night,’ said Opal. ‘I’m as good as dead now.’ She drew her clawed fingernails along the decking, leaving furrows through the timber. ‘Banishment would be a blessing, but it’s my head the elders will take for aiding you.’
‘Then it sounds as though you need us as much as we need you,’ said Drew. ‘Don’t wish your life away so swiftly, Opal. We may still be able to provide one for you. And your children.’
‘I fear for them,’ she confessed.
‘Try not to,’ said Vega. ‘If you’ve told us the truth, you shouldn’t be afraid.’
‘It’s not you I fear any more,’ spat out Opal. ‘Once the high lords of Bast receive word of my complicity, they’ll go after my children. The Catlords have never been shy of punishing their own for transgressions.’
‘Like Taboo?’ asked Drew, remembering his friend’s predicament that left her enslaved to the Lizardlords. ‘What crime did she commit that got her imprisoned on Scoria, fighting in the Furnace? How is it that a Catlady of Bast ends up fighting in a pit for the amusement of others?’
Opal’s face, so hard and fierce, softened at the mention of the fiery young Weretiger who’d fought alongside Drew in the arena. One of the Lizardlord’s Eight Wonders, Taboo was as tough a therian as Drew had ever encountered, and he was proud to consider her a friend.
‘Therein lies a tale, cub.’ Opal sighed ruefully.
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he replied, encouraging her to speak. ‘Besides, anything you tell us regarding the Catlords could be of use. Taboo is a friend of mine; if I can convince your high lords that Lyssians and Bastians can work together, perhaps there’s a way we can stop this war for good.’
‘First I want a guarantee,’ she said, looking up. Vega stepped closer, coming to a halt behind Drew, hands on his hips.
‘Go on,’ said the Sharklord.
‘I need a promise that you’ll help rescue my children from Braga.’
‘We can do that,’ said the count. ‘I’ll do everything in my power to get them safely into your arms.’
‘How strange, Sharklord, that days ago you promised you’d kill my babies if I didn’t do as you demanded, yet now you vow to save them.’
‘You helped us, Pantherlady,’ replied Vega with a smile. ‘Now let me return the favour. So tell us, what do you know of this Taboo?’
‘You already know,’ she began, ‘about the three great houses of the Catlords, three dynasties which between them have governed Bast for sixty years.’
‘The Lions, the Panthers and the Tigers,’ said Drew.
‘Good lad, you’ve been paying attention,’ joked Vega, patting Drew on the head like a lapdog. A glare from Opal silenced him.
‘We’ve worked together, pooling our strength, supporting one another as we turned Bast from a myriad tiny, warring states into a force to be reckoned with throughout the known world. You have experienced our might, of course.’
Both Drew and Vega nodded ruefully.
‘The seat of power in Bast is Leos, the Lionlord capital. Then there’s Braga, my home, and Felos, land of the Tigerlords. The Forum of Elders gathers in Leos, the senior high lords from the three houses and all the smaller felinthrope lines – Jaguars, Cheetahs and the like – making up its number.’
‘What of all the other noble houses, those whose children you took as ransom?’ asked Drew.
‘Some have risen through the ranks to positions of power, such as the Hippo general, Gorgo, and Count Costa, the Vulturelord. But most remain where the Catlords want them, beneath our paws.’
She said the last words with a hint of triumph.
‘Taboo was but a girl when she joined her grandfather, High Lord Tigara, in Leos. She instantly caught the attention of all in the court, her passion and temper being quite remarkable, even for a felinthrope. You’ll have heard of the rage of the Lions – Taboo had her own kind of fury, screaming the steeples down whenever she didn’t get her way.
‘While a few found Taboo difficult and unmanageable, many warmed to the girl’s wild demeanour and unpredictable nature, and found her antics a breath of fresh air within the stuffy council chambers of the capital. Indeed, one young felinthrope took a particular shine to her: Chang, son of Lord Chollo, the Cheetahlord of the Teeth. The attraction was mutual and the two were soon courting. Their tempers were well matched – when they weren’t holding one another’s hands they were gripping one another’s throats. But we’re Catlords. We’re nothing if not passionate.’
Opal took a deep breath before speaking, the Beauty of Bast’s tough exterior melting before their eyes.
‘There was another who loved Taboo, a young Catlord who was on the rise. Quietly spoken, he was a man of action, unlike the smooth suitor that was young Chang. Well … this shy felinthrope, though he had little in common with the young Tigerlady, approached Taboo one evening, declaring his undying love for her. The girl, still little more than a child herself, laughed at the Catlord who’d proposed to her, throwing his love back in his foolish face.’
Opal’s eyes were wet with tears as she stared into space, recalling the terrible incident.
‘He seized her, distressed by her rebuttal. She struck him, clawing his chest. He hit her back and she fell hard, just as Lord Chang returned to her chambers. The boy leapt to the girl’s defence, but he was no match for his rival, who was freshly returned from a military campaign, battle hardened. A few punches from the warrior were enough to crush the Cheetah’s slender body. Taboo, enraged, leapt on to the Catlord’s back, raking his torso, clawing at his face, biting and tearing at him with all her fury. He grabbed her, he beat her, he throttled her until she was unconscious. Then he fetched his sister.’
Drew knew what was coming next. He shivered to think about how complicit Opal had been in Taboo’s fate.
‘I helped Onyx set the scene. According to our version, he was with me when we heard screaming. While I rushed for the palace guard, Onyx went to investigate. He found the lovers fighting one another. Onyx leapt forward, valiantly trying to wrestle the Tiger from the Cheetah, but the boy was already breathing his last, while the girl turned her hateful blows on my brother. When I arrived with the guard and other members of the court, we told our story and she was carried away to a cell.
‘High Lord Oba, my father, pushed for the execution of the girl – she was sick in the mind, a danger to all as well as herself. She pleaded for clemency, claiming not to recall the events of the night. That was very probably the case – I don’t doubt that Taboo suffered a grave trauma at my brother’s hands, both emotionally and mentally. She denied she could have ever harmed Chang, swore she loved him, but who were the elders going to believe? A crazed young girl with a history of foul temper and fights, or a many-times-decorated young war hero? High Lord Tigara begged for leniency, for his granddaughter’s life to be spared.
‘It was left to the Lion, High Lord Leon, to pass judgment. Leon is the father of Leopold, and as old as any of the Werelords of Bast. Even back then he was very fond of my brother. Upon the advice of Onyx and my father, Leon agreed that Taboo should be stripped of all title and position and gifted to the Lizardlords of Scoria, forced to fight out her days in the Furnace. She was banished, and all the felinthrope races turned their backs upon her. The shame upon the house of Tigers was immense, the stain immovable.’
Opal rocked forward on her haunches, looking from Vega down to Drew. She lifted her wrists and held the chains out before her. The Pantherlady closed her teary eyes.
‘T
hat is Taboo’s sorry tale.’
8
A Wasted Talent
‘It’s time, my lord.’
Hector looked up from the tome. Ringlin stood at the library’s entrance, edgier than he’d ever been. The Boarlord winced as he closed the heavy book cover, a cloud of dust billowing as it slammed shut. The pain in his chest was a constant reminder of the wrongs he’d committed and how far he’d wandered from the right path. He could have administered his own remedies and magicks, but he’d ceased to practise all forms of magistry. Perhaps Duchess Freya could forgive him once he freed her, and she might help him then.
‘Have they all gone?’ he asked, rising and hobbling to the door.
‘I left Ibal escorting the remaining prisoners from their cells,’ said the Boarguard captain. ‘Once they realized they were being freed, the miners and smiths were more than forthcoming about the road beneath the mountain. They were happy to point it out. Carver and Manfred led the way, with your Lady Bethwyn in their company.’
Over his shoulder he carried his backpack, and the cloak he wore was a thick, woollen affair. He was dressed for the outdoors. ‘If you’re going to do this, you have to come now.’
‘Good man, Ringlin,’ said Hector, seizing him by the forearm with a gloved left hand. ‘I had you down for a cold-blooded killer when we first met.’
‘Oh, I’m still that, my lord. Only there’s a time and a place, see?’
‘You know this is the right thing to do, don’t you?’ whispered Hector, pausing at the door.
‘That’s your decision to make, Hector,’ said Ringlin, dropping the formalities for a moment. ‘I’m a Boarguard; I’ll follow you whatever you do.’
‘You’re loyal so long as I pay you,’ said the Boar with a sigh.
‘Not necessarily. Your brother paid us, and I could hardly say I was loyal to that drunken fool. I like you, Hector. Ain’t ever been able to say that about a master. And this new leaf you’re turning over, when all the world is in ruins around you: it may be the making of you.’
Storm of Sharks Page 27
