red thirst

by ich du

  They met Djellah on the way. "Were they mad that I told?"

  Cendenai appeared to consider that seriously. "Not very cross. But you would be wise not to do it again. And now, little one" - Djellah made a face - "make amends by telling Marrokh that we wish to eat in my cabin."

  "Can I eat with you?"

  "Not today. We have things to discuss." Djellah opened her mouth to protest. "Things arising from your indiscretion." Djellah went to find the cook.

  Without the lamps, Cendenai's cabin was dark and cool. The food arrived on their heels: an enormous tray of spiced vegetables, fish in delicate rolls, fluffed rice and flat bread. Cendenai lit a thick yellow candle which she covered with a multi-faceted glass. The walls glowed with refracted colour that drifted with the candle flame.

  "You have questions," Cendenai said, heaping a platter with rice and vegetables. She handed it to Ariel, began loading a second for herself.

  "Several. First," she hesitated, "why did your father's remark about the robe I'm wearing make you so angry?"

  Cendenai's skin was dark and the room not well lit but Ariel thought she blushed.

  "It has been a custom amongst the male line of the suzerains of Sadiz that the woman from their harem who last had sexual congress with the husband wears an item of the husband's clothing to show her status as favourite. My father's remark is his way of reminding me I'm a woman and should stick to... women's ways."

  Ariel thought about that for a while, then it was her turn to blush. "You captain his flagship," she pointed out.

  "Only for as long as he allows it. He can take it away from me any time. He likes to remind me of that."

  "Will he?"

  "No. I'm one of the best he has" - Ariel could imagine that - "and in his way, he is proud of me."

  They ate in silence for a while. Ariel thought about her own future as the unmarried daughter of Bretonnian merchant aristocracy. Her money pouch lay heavy against her skin underneath her robe. Cendenai's robe.

  Djellah burst in. "Send and Mousaou Salah are shouting at each other!"

  "How many times have I told you not to run in here without knocking?" Ariel recognized Cendenai's response as automatic. She was reminded of Bel. "And don't steal food from a guest's plate." Djellah stuffed a piece of fish in her mouth and grinned at Ariel, who smiled back. "What are they arguing about this time?"

  "Something to do with magic and corn."

  Khorne. Ariel felt her nostrils flare. She touched her knife.

  "… and they're not really shouting. But Send's angry, you can tell. I think Mousaou Salah's scared of him," she finished doubtfully.

  Ariel nodded. She remembered Send's soft voice when she had caught him with her knife. Angry, the elf would be terrifying.

  Djellah recovered her exuberance. She cocked her head, looked Ariel up and down. "I said it would suit you," she said slyly and disappeared through the door.

  "Do you have sisters?" Cendenai said as she closed and bolted the door.

  Ariel nodded, unsure of her voice. "She was called Isabel."

  And there, for the first time, sitting in the rich colours of the candlelight and wearing another woman's clothes, Ariel was able to talk about Bel.

  Behind the Rose of Aramam the setting sun stained tattered cloud bloody. The evening breeze was cool and strong, canvas bellied. Hamqa and Djellah were safe below; on the foredeck, Cendenai talked quietly to the two women loading the arbalest with arrows. Ariel stood aft, watching the fleet. Here and there among the graceful elven ships and the lateen-rigged Arabians, she was able to pick out the sails of an Empire or Bretonnian craft. She wondered if the Rosamund was among them. In the middle of the fleet floated fourteen ships crewed by cloth dummies and a handful of sailors. Fireships, Cendenai had told her.

  They hung five miles outside the Magrittan harbour. The Magrittans were nowhere to be seen.

  Mousaou Salah raised his eye-glass and scanned the water. "What are they up to?"

  "Escribano is not... predictable," Send said. Ariel noticed that he was wearing multi-coloured studs in his ears. It was the first time she had seen him wear ornament of any kind.

  "I don't want to hear any more talk of mysterious Powers and magic," Salah murmured, still scanning. "This is plain naval warfare."

  Send said nothing. Ariel remembered his talk of Khorne and Slaanesh, the soldiers in Bilbali.

  "Sweet god!" Salah jerked the glass from his eye, then lifted it again. "I don't believe it." He passed the glass to Send. "They're still in the harbour. The whole fleet. Like sitting ducks." He offered the glass to Send. "Has Escribano gone mad?"

  "No," Send said without bothering to look through the glass. "He wants something other than 'plain naval warfare'."

  To Ariel, it seemed that something in him tightened, like a rope going taut under the strain of a sail in a full wind. Cendenai noticed the disturbance. She came over.

  "It's as you feared?" she asked. Send nodded.

  Mousaou Salah looked from one to the other. "I can do nothing?"

  "Do as you see fit," Send said. "I'm no strategist. But the real battle will not be won with ships." He walked back a few paces, looked directly at Ariel. "Please ensure that no one approaches me until this is all over." He sat down cross-legged and closed his eyes.

  "I can't believe that what we do isn't important," Salah said to Cendenai. He reached a decision. "Captain, I want you to prepare your crew for an assault on the harbour. And send me someone who knows mirror code."

  Messages flashed to and fro and on every deck, people scurried about like ants whose nest has been poked by a stick. Ariel seemed to be the only one doing nothing. She found a bucket and drew seawater. At least she could damp everything down.

  Meanwhile, the fleet altered its configuration: those possessing balisters and mangonels came to the fore; those like the Aramam, with only arbalests, were to stay behind the others and discharge their bundles of arrows from behind the protective hail of stones and burning naphtha offered by the others. The fire ships lay behind them all, hidden. The fleet put on more sail.

  Ariel had nothing to do now but watch. The massive cliffs of the Magrittan harbour loomed and she questioned the wisdom of approaching so closely: surely the Magrittans would have those high overhangs fortified. But the cliffs appeared deserted. At the wheel, Cendenai looked calm. Send still sat with his eyes closed, breathing deeply. Ariel began to sweat.

  The front ships lay within the jaws of the cliffs and still the Magrittans made no move. Ariel could see the anchor chains of one vessel glinting in the last of the red sun. Others had no sail set at all. Instead of being reassured, fear dried her tongue and swallowed the air in her lungs. Her hands hurt: she was gripping the rope handle of the bucket like a life line. She bent and put it on the deck, then took position near Send.

  Mousaou Salah called something, but her hearing was muffled by fear. A mirror winked. All across the fleet tiny points of light bloomed as torches were lit. For the naphtha. They continued forward.

  In the harbour, there was frenzied activity aboard some ships. Nothing aboard others. Mousaou Salah grinned, a fierce, tight grin.

  "Some of them at least are beginning to realize that there'll be more to this engagement than the muttering of spells."

  "They seem confused," Cendenai observed. The ships which had dropped anchor and set sail were moving off in different directions.

  Salah lifted his glass and watched for a long moment. "Some of them have decided that Escribano and his Power friend might need some more, ah, material help and are following orders of their own. Let's add to their confusion. How fast is this ship?"

  "One of the fastest."

  "And the other arbalest carriers?"

  "Most are the faster, lighter vessels."

  "Good. How do you fancy risking a pass alongside one of those?" He pointed at one of the vessels raising anchor.

  "What does it carry?"

  Salah raised his glass again. "Naphtha. But I doubt it's b
een heated ready, and if we pass at right angles and at sufficient speed their chances are small."

  Cendenai watched the vessel creeping away from the harbour under half sail. "It should be safe." She turned the wheel several degrees to port, then called her second mate to take it. Standing amidships, she began calling out orders.

  Salah conferred with the signaller. The mirror winked again. Several ships nosed ahead of the rest. Ariel loosened her knife in its sheath and hoped Cendenai would move to a more sheltered position before they came within range of the Magrittan.

  Everything came into sharp focus for Ariel. Ahead of her, the hardwood mast glowed in the deep red polish of the sun; the air was clean and sharp with land-meets-sea smell, over that lay the heavy, oily naphtha; she could feel the grain of the wood beneath her feet. Her blood beat in her ears. She could die out here.

  Like a bird of prey, they stooped toward their victim. Cendenai chopped her hand down, and the arbalest rattled its load of death up at the sky. She barked a command at the steersman, and the Aramam heeled over in a vicious turn. Ariel heard the water hissing against their hull.

  The Magrittan had her naphtha lit and two figures on deck were manoeuvring the balister into position. One of them dropped to the deck with an arrow in his thigh.

  The women by the arbalest had two more bundles of arrows in place. Cendenai chopped again. In reply, the Magrittan loosed her balister.

  A ball of black and flame arced from their deck. Ariel watched it. It was going to overshoot. Cendenai shouted for the steersman to pull the Aramam into an even tighter curve, out of the Magrittan's line of sight. Another ball of fire streaked into the air, flame streaming behind it like a comet's tail as it fell towards them out of the sky. They almost made it; the comet's tail caught the taffrail behind Send. Ariel threw one bucket of water onto the planking around him and ran with the other to the burning taffrail. The water hit the naphtha with a cracking, steaming hiss and the rail bubbled. The fire seemed out but Ariel drew another bucket of water to be sure and dumped it over the mess. The residue would have to be scraped off.

  Send sat with his eyes closed, water pooling by his feet. He did not move.

  The Aramam was well out of range now and the Magrittan lay dead in the water, over half her crew injured or killed by their rain of arrows. The crew of the Aramam laughed and clapped each other on the back. Ariel stood there, the bucket still in her hand. She was glad she was not dead. Cendenai smiled up at her, then shrugged and looked around the Aramam.Ariel understood: the ship was Cendenai's responsibility; she could not come to Ariel yet.

  "We only lost one," Salah crowed, pointing to where orange flame licked and sucked at a lateen-rigged vessel to starboard. "Pull back. We'll blockade the rest and send the fireships in."

  The skeleton crews on the fireships set full sail and tied the wheels in position. They opened stopcocks on barrels of oil in the hold and doused the decks with it. Then they dived off and swam to the nearest ships where they were hauled aboard, leaving the floating bombs to their crews of stuffed dummies. One passed so close that Ariel could see the smile a sailor had painted on a white face. Elven archers lit the cloth-wrapped tips of their arrows and waited for the signal.

  One of the Magrittans hurled a huge stone from its mangonel in a desperate attempt to sink the deserted ship coming directly toward it. Salah smiled. They had left it too late. He murmured to his signaller and the mirror caught the last bit of light from the sun. A triple handful of arrows soared towards the fireships. The first ship lit with a soft whump.

  Ariel turned her face away from the heat and the rattle of arrows as they rained onto the escaping vessels. She no longer cared that the man who sold the olla which had killed Bel was somewhere on one of those ships that roared and crackled and fell into the water. She wished it was all over. A buzzing in her ears muffled the shrieks of sailors burning to death.

  The buzzing became more insistent. She shook her head to clear it. It got louder, like bees swarming somewhere nearby.

  Send stood up. "Stop," he said. The buzzing faltered then resumed. He looked at Ariel. "Tell Cendenai to stop."

  The Aramam hove to. Send turned to face the harbour over the starboard rail. The ship fires were dying but the red glow over Magritta grew. The Rose of Aramam lay alone, unprotected. The buzzing grew to an angry hum. Djellah came up on deck, her hands to her ears. Hamqa followed.

  "In the name of the gods, Senduiuiel," he cried running across the deck to where the elf stood as if he had not heard, "stop this!"

  Ariel stepped in front of him. "Your Magnificence."

  "Get out of my way."

  "He requested that none approach him until it was all over."

  He tried to push past but she barred his way. "Out of my way, woman."

  "Your Exalted Magnificence, I cannot."

  He pulled his dagger free from its jewelled sheath. "I haven't time to argue."

  "Nor I." She slid her own knife free. For a moment she thought he would attack her, then he threw his knife to the deck.

  "I'll have you whipped when this is over."

  Ariel ignored him and sheathed her knife. She did not know what else to do. Cendenai, holding Djellah who had her face buried against her older sister's chest, caught Ariel's eye and nodded. She had done the right thing.

  Send raised his arms and breathed out, slow and strong. The abrupt silence was shocking. He brought his hands together before him and cupped them. The air around him began to shimmer like a heat haze; Ariel saw it flicker with rainbow colours. The buzzing was replaced by a gentle ringing. The air changed: colour poured onto Send's hands. It seemed to Ariel that he hesitated a fraction, then accepted streamers of mauve and lilac, pink and violet, turning the rest away.

  Send raised hands full of amethyst fire and threw his magic free. It skimmed the waves, then soared. The sunset turned lavender. Over Magritta, the red glow deepened to hot ruby. A wind slammed out from the mouth of the harbour and tore over their ships like crazy laughter. Ariel shivered, even though she knew she was not its target. The edges of the sunset turned back to red.

  Send shuddered. Sweat ran from his chin and down his neck. He closed his eyes and began to chant something in Elvish. The sunset shone lavender again, crept across the sky toward Magritta.

  In the harbour the water frothed and jumped as though someone in a rage beat at it with a paddle. Ariel thought she could make out a huge figure that reached down and picked up the Magrittan ships like toys, crushing them, dropping the pieces back into the water. It slashed at the remains in a frenzy, then turned its attention outward, and howled.

  Send fell to his knees. The surge passed over him, over the Aramam.

  "Help me up."

  Ariel was afraid to touch him. Send gave her a weary, bitter smile. She felt ashamed, but her fear outweighed her shame. He pulled himself to his feet.

  "It's done. Look."

  Above them, the amethyst deepened and solidified, took on substance. It laughed, and Ariel was reminded of the statue in the clearing on the night of Bel's death. The two figures filled the sky.

  "The Greater Daemons of Slaanesh and Khorne will finish this fight without us."

  Ariel had travelled with this sorcerous elf, shared food with him. She backed away.

  Overhead, the colours clashed. The sea heaved; an enormous wave rolled outward.

  Cendenai had seen the danger. The Aramam came about to face the wave head on. It slid under her bow, gentle as a hand under a lover's back. Then dropped them. For one heart-stopping moment as they plunged nose down, Ariel thought they would fall until they reached the sea bed, but the bow strained up, up and the Aramam righted herself. The wave raced away southwest.

  "It might catch the Horn of Araby," Cendenai remarked. She looked over at Mousaou Salah who was pale with shock, then at her father, and beckoned the signaller. "I'm ordering the fleet away."

  They would have to use flags this time, Ariel thought irrelevantly. She craned her neck to
look at the sky. The two figures were high above them and moving higher. Red flashed, then mauve.

  Djellah ran over, but even she stopped several paces from Ariel and Send. "Who'll win?"

  "Neither," Send said. He was pale, and still shaking slightly. "Neither is stronger than the other. They rely on us mortals to fight most of their battles."

  "Why did he" - she pointed upwards - "destroy his own ships?"

  "To Rhug'guari'ihlulan, the Bloodthirster of Khorne, it doesn't matter who dies. Blood and death are like... food." His voice was harsh with fatigue and the knowledge that those who might have counted themselves friends now feared him as much as, more than, they feared the Magrittans.

  Djellah looked back to the Magrittan harbour where nothing floated but a few scraps of wood and pieces of sail. "Not a good ally."

  Ariel spread honey on her breakfast bread, and took a bite. She was wearing Cendenai's blue robe. Cendenai poured spiced fruit tea for them both.

  Djellah burst in. "He's leaving."

  Ariel knew she meant Send. "He's not waiting until we reach Meknes?"

  "No. He's taking a boat and just... going. Can I have a piece of bread?"

  "Um? Surely." She handed her a piece. "I wish he'd come to say goodbye." Then she wondered if that was true.

  "But he did," Send said from the doorway. "May I join you?"

  Cendenai leaped out of her chair and Ariel reached for the knife she no longer wore at her hip. Send watched. Ariel took a deep breath, forced herself to be calm. Cendenai reseated herself.

  He was not wearing his multi-coloured studs, and the lines by his mouth were deep. His eyes were dark-shadowed.

  "I'm sorry," Ariel said, and hoped he understood.

  "I think," he said slowly, "that there are times when I don't like being a wizard." He looked at them steadily.

  Ariel wondered if he was thinking of the fact that now he had publicly summoned a Greater Daemon of Slaanesh he was outcast, shunned by elven society. He would never be able to sit at breakfast like this, with family and friends.

  "Why did you do it?"