Sands of Memory

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Sands of Memory Page 7

by Melissa McShane


  “You have no right to attack innocents,” Perrin said.

  “You don’t know anything. The men I’m after murdered six people in Fioretti and will likely kill again. I know they’re on board this ship.”

  “There’s no one like that here! Why won’t you listen?” Sienne said. “There’s just us, and Ghrita, and the seasick man, and nobody’s ever heard of these men before!”

  The wizard put away his spellbook and reached into a pocket, withdrawing a glowing stone. “This blessing says otherwise,” he said. Then he froze, one hand still outstretched, as Kalanath pressed the end of his staff against his throat.

  “You have killed many in pursuit of these fugitives,” he said, breathing heavily, “and you still do not have them. Why do you not say all this before?”

  “Because your captain’s refusal to hand over men I know for a fact are here tells me she’s in league with them.” The wizard swallowed, making the staff move. “And you attacked us before I was close enough to use shout. I can’t see how I can construe that as anything but open disregard for the law.”

  Sienne couldn’t keep her eyes off Alaric, who lay as if he were dead, his eyes still open. She knew shout didn’t last forever, that he was conscious within his paralyzed body, but it still tore at her heart to see him like that. “You’re an idiot,” she snarled, “and I wish I’d force-blasted you when I had the chance.”

  “Then I’d arrest you for interfering with the law,” the wizard replied promptly.

  “I think that will be unnecessary,” Ghrita said. Sienne jerked in surprise. She’d forgotten the woman was there. Ghrita emerged from the ladder, hauling a struggling form with her that she threw at the wizard’s feet. “I found him hiding in the captain’s quarters. We know him as Harchan, or Harchow—I can’t remember what he claimed.”

  The wizard darted forward to grab the man’s chin. “Martin Sestura,” he breathed. “So I was right. You were harboring a fugitive.” He stood. “I’m going to have this ship impounded—”

  “You will not,” Perrin said. His shield vanished, and he took a few steps forward. “Did you not hear that this man gave a false name when he came aboard? No one here knew his true identity. You have no grounds for impounding this ship, and no grounds for the attack you mounted upon it.”

  “I have a legal right—”

  “Sienne is correct. You are an idiot.” Perrin’s level tone concealed barely checked fury. “You failed to consider the possibility your quarry might have given a false name. You made demands without offering proof that you were who you claimed to be. You brought to bear lethal force against a ship that did nothing but refuse to allow strangers to board—strangers who might well have lied about their intent. And now, having used wizardry against your own people, you continue to make threats you are in no position to carry out. Whoever you are, I intend to see you brought to justice.”

  The man withdrew his spellbook from his vest again. “Don’t,” Sienne said, her book already open. “I can do far worse to you than force.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Watch me.”

  The wizard eyed her, then slowly closed his spellbook and put it away. “This is all a terrible misunderstanding,” he said.

  “I think not,” Perrin said. “And your ship has left you behind.”

  The man started and spun around. The mystery ship had drifted away from where it had ground against the Wave’s Crest. He took a few steps, and Kalanath tripped him with his staff, sending him sprawling.

  “Sienne, how long before they recover?” Perrin asked.

  Sienne let her spellbook fall and dropped to her knees beside Alaric, taking his hand. The fingers moved slightly when she pressed them. “It’s wearing off already. Maybe another fifteen minutes?”

  “Then—excuse me, sailor, I’m afraid I don’t know your name or rank,” Perrin said, approaching the helmswoman. She’d stuck to her post the whole time, though her eyes were wide with terror. “Can you bring us into harbor? Your captain will wake soon, and then we can have this whole affair settled.”

  “Aye,” the woman said. “The captain’s not dead?”

  “She’ll be fine,” Sienne assured her.

  Sestura rose from where he’d crouched quivering on the deck and ran for the rail. Sienne cried out and went for her spellbook. “I don’t think so,” Ghrita said, darting after him. With a couple of long strides, she caught up to him, grabbing his arm and spinning him around to meet her fist impacting with his stomach. He bent double, groaning, and she caught hold of his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. “After all this fuss, you’d better get what’s coming to you. Whatever that is.” She grinned. “Though I hate to see this fellow—” she pointed at the wizard—“have the satisfaction.”

  “If you let him go, you really are abetting a criminal,” the wizard said.

  “Why would I let him go?” Ghrita marched Sestura to Perrin’s side. “Do you have any blessings that will lock a door more securely than metal?”

  “I do not, but I have yet to pray for blessings this day,” Perrin said, “and it surprises me that you, of all people, should be aware of a Rafellish priest’s capabilities.”

  “Just because I don’t share your heathen worship doesn’t mean I don’t know how it works,” Ghrita said. “We should lock this fellow up before he can cause any mischief. And probably lock that fellow up as well.”

  “I am an officer of the law!”

  “Who is in a good deal of trouble,” Perrin said. “I would hate for you to take yourself beyond the law’s reach, though I imagine if you had any transportation spells, you would already have used them.”

  “Hoy there! Discharging cannons in Sileas harbor is forbidden!”

  A small ship, its single sail bellied out in a wind Sienne couldn’t feel, approached the Wave’s Crest at speed. Several men and women crowded its deck, three of them with spellbooks open. “Harbor guards! Prepare to be boarded!” the same woman shouted.

  The wizard got heavily to his feet. “This is a lawful—” he began, and Kalanath whipped his staff around to press against his throat once more. He shut up.

  Two sailors busied themselves lowering the rope ladder. Sienne crouched beside Alaric and held his hand, which closed around hers with reassuring firmness. A woman dressed in a bulky robe that didn’t impede her movement at all clambered over the side, followed by a wizard with his spellbook tucked inside his jerkin and another man who wore his sword strapped to his back as Alaric usually did. “I want to speak with your captain,” the woman said.

  “I am afraid that will not be possible for a few minutes,” Perrin said, gesturing at the fallen Talvanus. “This man saw fit to board our ship and loose magic on both our people and his own in a blatant disregard for the law.”

  “I am an officer of the law,” the wizard insisted. “My name is Thaddeus Romanus and I am in pursuit of that man.” He gestured at Ghrita’s captive.

  “So, this woman is the captain of this vessel. What about the captain of the other?” The woman waved in the direction of Romanus’s ship.

  “I am the one you should speak to, madam, I have the authority,” Romanus said, drawing himself up to his unimpressive height.

  “Very well,” the woman said. “I’m Mistress Cantero with the Sileas harbormaster’s office. Which of you fools shot first?”

  Sienne immediately pointed at Romanus. “We told him he didn’t have any right to search—”

  “Who are you?”

  “Sienne Verannus.”

  “You’re no sailor.”

  “No, but—”

  Cantero shook her head. “I want to hear from someone in authority on this ship. Where’s the second in command?”

  “Killed in action, mistress,” said one of the sailors. “I’m Captain Talvanus’s other lieutenant.”

  “Fine. You. What happened?”

  The lieutenant, who looked to be all of sixteen, glanced frantically around for someone else to take th
e burden of speaking. “That man wanted to board us,” he said. “Said we was harboring fugitives. We said we ain’t, but he wouldn’t listen. Shot at us. We defended ourselves, his people boarded us, and we had to fight back. And the captain—” He pointed at Talvanus—“they said she ain’t dead, but she looks it to me.”

  Talvanus chose that moment to twitch and moan faintly, in which the garbled sounds of speech were audible. “I see she’s not,” Cantero said. She turned to Romanus. “What’s your story?”

  “I am an officer of the law, in legal pursuit of that man,” Romanus said. “This ship harbored a fugitive, and I was within my rights to demand he be handed over. When they failed to do so, I ordered an attack.”

  “We didn’t know nothing about fugitives!” the lieutenant cried out. “He gave us names that didn’t match anyone on board and didn’t say nothing about what his fugitives looked like. We thought he was pirates, mistress, and the law don’t say you have to heave to and be boarded just on anyone’s say-so.”

  “Indeed.” Cantero’s attention shifted to Sienne. “And you witnessed this?”

  “My friends and I did, yes. We’re passengers.”

  “And scrappers.” She said it with no hint of disdain, but Sienne bristled anyway.

  “We’re scrappers, yes,” she said. Alaric’s hand convulsed on hers.

  “Is the lieutenant’s story accurate?”

  “It is. Master Romanus was criminally negligent in casting spells that caught his own people in their effect.”

  “How dare you—” Romanus began.

  “I’ll decide whether Master Romanus was justified, thank you,” Cantero said in a cold, cutting tone that shut him up. “Is this man a fugitive?”

  Sestura, sagging in Ghrita’s grasp, looked so much like a fugitive Sienne didn’t know why it hadn’t been obvious from the beginning. “His name is Martin Sestura, and he is accused with his two accomplices of murdering six people in Fioretti in the course of a robbery. I demand you allow me to search this vessel for his compatriots,” Romanus said.

  Alaric groaned and rolled onto his side. Near him, Talvanus struggled to sit up. Two sailors rushed to her side, but she waved them off. “You do not have permission to search my ship,” Talvanus growled. “You can have your fugitive, Averran knows I don’t want him. But we took no one else aboard at Fioretti and I’ll be damned if I give up my rights just so you can puff out your chest.”

  “If he is an officer of the law, he has the right to search,” Cantero said.

  “His behavior has not been that of anyone with a legitimate right to pursue justice,” Perrin said. “He failed to show proof of his authority—and I note he still has not done so. I question whether he has the law on his side.”

  Cantero looked at Romanus. “Well?” she said.

  Romanus drew himself up. “The manner in which I left Fioretti—the haste in which I traveled—”

  “No officer of the law travels without proof of his or her authority,” Cantero said, holding out a hand. Romanus said nothing. “I see,” Cantero added, lowering her hand. “Take him into custody. Master Romanus, you’re being cited for discharging cannon within the bounds of the harbor and for illegal use of wizardry within city limits. Captain Talvanus, is it? If you returned fire, we’ll call it self-defense. You’re within your rights to pursue reparations.”

  “No,” Romanus shouted, “no, you can’t let him get away!”

  Cantero eyed the despondent Sestura. “He hid when Romanus showed up,” Ghrita said. “Authority or no, this man certainly has something to hide.”

  “That’s my instinct, too,” Cantero said. “We’ll take him ashore and interrogate him.” She gestured to her armed companion, who took Sestura from Ghrita’s hold. “Are you going to give me any trouble?” she asked Romanus. “Because that would make you look very guilty.”

  Romanus glared at her. Cantero gave him a pleasant smile. “Captain Talvanus, you’re to report to the harbormaster’s office to give your side of the story,” she said. “If it’s determined you were an innocent party, you’ll be free to go.”

  Alaric struggled to sit up. “I’m fine,” he said to Sienne, and got heavily to his feet. “I didn’t understand how powerful shout was until just now. Remind me not to piss you off.”

  “As if I’d use it against you,” Sienne said. She watched Cantero guide her captives to the ladder and down to the waiting ship. “That was exciting.”

  “The rest of you, go below,” Talvanus said. “I want you out of the way while I’m dealing with this, not to mention we still have cargo to unload. And…my thanks for fighting alongside us. You didn’t have to.”

  “I promised we would,” Alaric said. He popped his neck a couple of times and gestured for Sienne to precede him down the ladder.

  When they were all below, Ghrita said, “I don’t know about you all, but I want to see what that Sestura fellow left behind.” She took a few steps toward her cabin.

  Kalanath whipped his staff around and caught her across the stomach, bending her double and sending the breath whooshing out of her. In the next moment he’d thrown his staff down and grabbed the woman, bearing her into the bulkhead and pinning her there. “You are no mere traveler,” he snarled.

  “Kalanath, what—” Dianthe exclaimed.

  Ghrita smiled despite his arm across her throat. “My mistake, fighting so openly,” she wheezed. “Should have known…you’d recognize it.”

  “Who are you?” Kalanath demanded.

  “I told you my name. Ghrita Chakhorkurda.” She smiled again. “You’ve already guessed my purpose. I came to find you, Kalanath Oushikdali.”

  6

  Kalanath said, “You will have to kill me. I will not return.”

  “Your death isn’t the desired outcome,” Ghrita said. “Release me, and I’ll explain.”

  Kalanath pressed harder, making the woman gasp, then let her go. Ghrita coughed and rubbed her throat. “I should have been more cautious, but I thought we were all about to die, in which case it wouldn’t matter what you knew.”

  “Kalanath, who is this woman?” Sienne asked.

  Kalanath retrieved his staff, but didn’t relax, standing on the balls of his feet as if prepared to launch himself at Ghrita again. “Temple nirana,” he said. “It is…part guard, part warrior, part priest. Only the nirana fight with hands and feet.”

  “And the devesh,” Ghrita said. “You, Kalanath Oushikdali.”

  Alaric took a step closer. “I see,” he said. “And Kalanath fled the temple. If you intend to kill him, you’re going to find that difficult, temple nirana or not.”

  “I told you, his death isn’t why I’m here,” Ghrita said. “I was to observe and protect, if necessary.” She smiled, a wry expression. “Though we didn’t know he had such loyal companions. I don’t think my protection is necessary.”

  “No more being a mystery,” Kalanath said. “Why are you here if not to kill me?”

  Ghrita leaned against the wall, casual and languid as a cat. “You know they sought you when you fled,” she said, “prayed for guidance in finding you. All those prayers went unanswered. God was deaf to their pleas.”

  “I thought I had simply put myself beyond their reach,” Kalanath said. “Why would God refuse to answer Her divines?”

  “Why, indeed?” Ghrita smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant expression. “It was a question, once raised, that could not be ignored. If you, a devesh, were so important to God’s will, why would She allow you to abandon the temple and then hide you from Her own divines?”

  “Unless those divines were somehow at fault,” Alaric said.

  “You’re quick, Ansorjan. Unless the devesh needed protection from the temple divines. That possibility set the cat among the pigeons, as I’m sure even you heathens can imagine. Certain… irregularities… in the behavior of the divines regarding Kalanath Oushikdali came to light. Specifically, that they had intended to force God’s hand in breeding more deveshi when they failed to receiv
e the revelation they expected.” Ghrita’s smile became more pointed. “There was a quiet and tame little war, and when the dust settled, a new order prevailed.”

  Kalanath’s face was like stone. “What new order?”

  “Those who would have turned you to their use no longer rule in the temple at Chirantan. All the temples bent their prayers to supplication that God might turn away Her justified wrath at having Her gift—you see a devesh is one of God’s greatest gifts to Her people—abused. It was more than a year before God relented, and restored Her grace to Her people. Such a trial.” Ghrita made it sound more like a festival than a trial.

  “How fortunate for you,” Alaric said. “What does this have to do with Kalanath?”

  “Ah. The great mystery was that even after peace was restored, and the divines once more begged God to reveal the devesh’s location, every scrying attempt failed. You can imagine the divines’ reaction. All evidence to the contrary, they believed they were still on some level under condemnation. That God’s blessing had been taken from them. But they dared not give up hope at someday recovering him. So scrying for young Kalanath became a commonplace—a reflex, even. Something you do when you’ve given up hope of it ever producing anything. And two weeks ago, their faith and persistence paid off.”

  Sienne tried to remember where they’d been two weeks before. “Just like that?” she said.

  “Just like that. It was cause for rejoicing, or so they told me. I wasn’t in the temple—I’ve been living in Fioretti these many years, pursuing the temple’s interests outside Omeira. That’s why they tasked me with finding you and bringing you home. That, and I had no connection with those who drove you into exile. They thought that might matter to you.”

  “But we are going without you,” Kalanath said. “You did not make me go.”

  “Imagine my delight when it turned out you didn’t need my prompting,” Ghrita said. “My intent was to befriend you, sound you out as to your reasons for returning to Omeira, and then to reveal the truth so it wouldn’t be a huge shock when you arrived in Chirantan to a hero’s welcome. Or so you wouldn’t feel you needed to sneak around, whatever it is you’re up to there. Our friend Romanus just accelerated the process.”

 

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