Master of furies, p.29
Master of Furies, page 29
Their host, as Hava thought of the old man, said, ‘It’s all free. A bit of unofficial tariff on what passes through here from time to time. We have one fellow up in the city of Wandasan has a yen for that dreadful whisky made up in North Tembria. I personally can’t abide it, but some folk like it. There’s a couple of bottles, and the rest is wine and rum.
‘We don’t drink the water around here unless we cut it with something, or you can get a miserable case of the runs.’ He turned to Red Sweeney. ‘So, what’s the plan?’
Sweeney grinned. ‘We’re going to overthrow the Pride Lords.’
‘Ha!’ barked the old man. ‘No, seriously, you wouldn’t be here without a plan.’
‘Not my plan, but hers,’ Red Sweeney said, indicating Hava.
‘Hers?’
Indicating the older man, Red Sweeney said, ‘This old thief is Anton Macaulish. That’s his son, Ranuf, and the good-looking lad over there is his grandson, Michael. Gents,’ he said, turning slightly in the chair, ‘this is Captain Hava, and she has a plan.’
‘Truth?’ asked Anton.
‘Truth,’ said Red Sweeney.
‘Have you lost your wits? Not that you ever had that many to begin with, but this girl and this … fellow, are going to overthrow the Pride Lords?’
‘You might know Hava by another name … Sea Demon.’
Everyone fell silent for a long moment, then Anton said, ‘Truth?’
‘Truth,’ replied Red Sweeney.
‘So you’re the woman who goes around killing Azhante assassins and stealing their ships?’
‘Only when I have to,’ Hava replied.
‘Michael,’ said Anton, ‘run to the house and fetch that jug of special rum. This is a tale I want to listen to.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Red Sweeney.
Catharian returned from the bar and sat down.
Hava looked from face to face and said, ‘Let’s wait for the rum.’
DECLAN AND FIVE MEN CARRIED the longboat to the quayside and down a small wooden jetty that sloped gently down to the water. When they were knee-deep, they set the longboat afloat. As the boat settled and began to bob, Declan said, ‘The rest of you head back to the inn and wait.’
The others turned, leaving Sixto and Declan alone to row the boat. Besides wanting to test it and get its feel, Declan was curious about the vessel he and Sixto had spotted floating just outside the harbour.
They easily got into a rowing rhythm and headed towards where Declan had last seen their target. He checked over his shoulder from time to time, until at last he saw something bobbing above the waves.
‘Over there,’ he said, and Sixto looked. They corrected their course and after a few more minutes rowing, Declan saw it was a small ship, perhaps sixty feet, the bow tilted down slightly and listing a bit to starboard.
They rowed to the starboard side and tied off their longboat to a cleat next to an opening in the railing. The deck was three feet above the water, so Declan assumed the ship was slowly taking on water.
Both men climbed aboard and saw and heard no one. From what Declan could see, this was a coaster built for speed, but able to carry a fair-sized cargo.
They trod carefully along the slippery deck towards the stern.
‘Ever see the like?’ asked Declan.
‘Never,’ answered Sixto.
At the stern on the starboard side was a tall, raised section, atop which stood the wheel that controlled the rudder, and beside it a tall wooden structure that extended to the port rail. ‘Guess the wheel doesn’t have to be in the middle,’ said Sixto.
‘I guess,’ replied Declan.
Declan opened the door to the rear structure, and both men instantly stepped back as a wave of stench swept over them. It was the smell of death mixed with an acrid note Declan knew well. ‘Damn,’ he said.
They waited for a moment, then pulled their tunics up over their noses, and stepped in. It was dark in this cabin, but the light from the door revealed what had happened.
Three men lay sprawled around a brazier that was no longer alight, their faces already starting to bloat.
‘Idiots,’ said Declan. ‘They closed up the doors and window and burned charcoal.’
‘That is bad?’ asked Sixto.
‘Lots of things burn, and I’ve used most in the forge at one time or another, but with charcoal you need fresh air. There’s something about it that can put a man to sleep and then kill him. They probably thought this would burn through the night and not have to have wood added to it. They did it to keep warm.’ Declan shook his head in pity. ‘Let’s get them over the side.’
They made quick work of tossing the corpses over the rail, and by the time they returned to the cabin, the open windows and the door had helped, but the stench still lingered.
They looked through the litter on the floor and found nothing of significance. ‘Let’s check below,’ said Declan. ‘They stayed aboard for a reason.’
‘Maybe they had nowhere else to go,’ said Sixto. ‘Remember what Garange said about crews being ashore when the raid started.’
‘Yes, that’s true,’ Declan conceded.
They stepped back outside and Declan noticed that the masts had been unbolted at the base and the sails taken down in order to lower the ship’s profile against the sunset. He motioned to Sixto and said, ‘Easy to take down, but almost impossible to put back without a shipyard, I think. It needs a hoist.’
‘They were hiding,’ said Sixto.
‘Apparently. Probably going to wait another day or two then somehow get to shore.’ He looked around and then pointed behind the rear ‘shack’ as he thought of the odd deck structure. ‘In that,’ he said, pointing to where the bow of a longboat protruded from behind it.
‘From that smell, they must have died the night we saw them light up that brazier.’
Declan nodded. ‘Now, how do we get below decks?’ he asked.
‘Over there,’ said Sixto, pointing to a small hatch just ahead of the foremast. A covered main hatch lay between the two masts. The smaller hatch was on a hinge and lifted by a rope loop. Declan pulled it up and looked down. ‘Not much light down there.’
‘Nothing to make a brand with, either,’ said Sixto.
‘Ah well …’ Declan saw the first step of a ladder nailed to a bulkhead and stepped down. He climbed down carefully and waited until Sixto joined him.
Declan tried to see into the gloom, but the contrast with the daylight meant that his eyes were slow to adjust. He knelt and felt the deck and said, ‘No water.’
‘Not sinking?’ Sixto asked.
‘Big cargo shifting might have canted her towards the bow and starboard,’ Declan said. He looked around. ‘There are two holds.’
They were in the smaller, forehold, he reckoned, and he could make out a door that must lead to the main hold. Declan opened it and found a large set of crates all straining at retaining ropes because of the angle of the ship.
‘Dark as a cave,’ said Sixto.
‘What’s over here?’ asked Declan as they turned towards the bow.
A number of crates and boxes had slid forward and to the right and were now jammed together. At the edge of the cargo, Declan could hear his feet splashing. He knelt and felt around in the darkness and said, ‘There’s a leak.’
‘How long?’ asked Sixto.
‘Until she sinks?’ Declan asked as he moved back towards the ladder topside. He considered how long it had been since he had spied the boat. ‘Days,’ he reckoned. ‘It’s a slow leak.’ Once up on the deck, he said, ‘One of those big crates might have cracked a board in the hull, or maybe just sprung some caulking. Either way, some of the lads can muscle those crates back, haul them up here if needed, and we can have a look. That bit of water would bail out in less than a day.’
‘What are you thinking?’
‘I don’t know what’s in that cargo, but it may be useful. Even if we end up throwing it overboard, we can haul this beauty into the harbour and do some trading with our friend Garange. No need to spend gold if we can keep it, right?’
Sixto laughed. ‘Right.’
‘So, let’s organize the lads, get some rope and lamps, and while that’s underway, see about finally getting that damned sand.’
For a moment Declan felt almost cheerful, but then his dark desire returned: to get on with forging swords and use them on those who had killed his wife.
• CHAPTER EIGHTEEN •
An Expanded Perspective and an Expedition
Hatu stood in the centre of the library, which was now brightly lit by a restored massive chandelier. Workers had finally repaired the chain-and-pulley assembly, so that it could be lowered and the glass-encased oil lamps lit, then hauled back into place. This would make working at night far less tedious.
Hatu nodded his approval and the workers lowered the chandelier and began extinguishing the lamps ready for them to be lit again for night work. The next task would be replacing all the empty sconces along the walls, so that the perimeter of the room would come alight. The windows were being repaired by carpenters who’d arrived with Hava’s ship, and some day in the future they might even be painted to improve the look.
Hatu waved his thanks to the workers and returned to the usual table at which he, Bodai, and Nathan used to study, and found Bodai sitting with Sabella and the other acolytes.
Sabella smiled at him, but the other young women seemed a little self-conscious. Despite Hatu having lived at the Sanctuary for some time now, he was still a source of curiosity and wonder to those who had been here before he was found, those who had been tasked to find him. The five young women had spent so many hours in meditation and mental search for him. Now that the hunt was over, finding new positions for them was the order of business.
Hatu knew the other four young women only by name: Annisa, Farah, Bairavi, and Kole. He nodded a greeting and said, ‘The chandelier is restored.’
‘We noticed,’ said Bodai. ‘And we are making progress with cataloguing the books.’
Smiling at the young women, Hatu said, ‘I’ve noticed. Thank you, all of you. Your work has been amazing.’
They all returned his smile.
Bodai said, ‘We have a lot to do.’
Hatu understood Bodai was referring to all the issues that had been put aside until Nathan returned, and the longer he wasn’t around, the more concerned Hatu and Bodai became about what they should do next. More than that, Hatu was deeply worried about what he should do regarding Nathan’s warning about the thing in the pit. Should he just forget about that encounter, or take things in hand and begin his own investigation?
Still, Hatu had found since Nathan’s departure that turning his mind away from those questions and focusing on more immediate concerns was refreshing.
Bodai said, ‘I think I know what we should do.’ He smiled at the young women, then at Hatu.
‘When you do that, you look downright devious,’ Hatu chuckled.
Sabella ignored the banter and said, ‘I like this cataloguing and organizing, so I will become a …’ She looked at Bodai.
‘Librarian,’ he supplied.
‘Oh?’ said Hatu, and after a moment’s consideration, he said, ‘Oh! Indeed, yes. You have a wonderful knack.’
‘Farah will also be doing that work,’ said Bodai. ‘And with all the new children running around with little to do besides running errands and helping here and there, Annisa, Bairavi, and Kole are to become teachers, what you would have termed preceptors. So, I will leave the book organization to Sabella and Farah, and until Nathan returns, I shall start teaching the teachers.’ He seemed positively beside himself with delight.
Hatu smiled and gave Bodai’s shoulder a quick squeeze. ‘Full circle, then. Back to what you were before fate turned you into a spy.’
‘Indeed.’ Hatu had never seen Bodai this happy in all the years he had known him and it pleased him, though a dark thought crept in, which he kept to himself: ‘What do I do if Nathan never returns?’
DECLAN HELPED PUSH THE FINAL crate up and Sixto and two other men quickly tied it off and cleared the way for a local ship-fitter Garange had recommended to inspect where the water was coming in. After less than a moment, he said, ‘I can fix this in a few hours. It’s just a misaligned hull plank.’ He indicated the large crate they had just removed. ‘As you thought, something caused that crate to break loose, it slid over here, hitting hard enough to cause a tiny leak, and as water came in, the ship rode lower, and …’ He shrugged. ‘I can patch it here. If you can get the ship righted by bailing out the water so that the bent boards are a few feet higher, I can hit the other side with a big soft mallet I have back at the shop and get the overlap back in place. Some fresh caulking and she’s seaworthy again.
‘Now, getting those masts back in place will take a bit of work, but you’ve got a lot of men, and mostly it’s down to muscle.’
‘Good,’ said Declan. ‘One of the boys will row you ashore and bring you back. When you return, tell us how many men you need to work with you.’
The fitter nodded and climbed the ladder to the main deck.
Declan waved Sixto over. ‘Looks like we have a ship to trade with Garange.’
‘Why trade?’ asked Sixto.
‘Looks a bit strange,’ was Declan’s immediate reply, which as he said it he realized was hardly a good reason. Just because it had a pulpit helm, as the ship-fitter called it, and an offset cabin on the main deck, it was still a worthy ship. ‘All right, so that’s a stupid reason. Let’s see what the other compartment holds.’
They entered the split between fore and aft holds and saw that Tobias had overseen a pretty organized investigation of the crates. Several had already been opened, inspected, and re-closed. Declan came to stand next to the old fighter and said, ‘So, what have you discovered so far?’
‘Blankets,’ Tobias said, pointing to a crate in the corner behind them. ‘Those two there are full of pots, pans, kitchen tools. That big one over there, more blankets.’
‘How many?’ Declan asked.
‘Rough guess is a few hundred.’
‘Trade goods,’ said Sixto.
Nodding, Tobias said, ‘My guess, too. Both parties that got run into the Wound were guarding traders who tried to go into the Border Tribes’ territory uninvited. Whoever brokered this shipment knew that it’s only when the tribes come here that serious trading gets done.
‘So, they trade directly with the tribes when they come through, or maybe go to local merchants so they can handle the trade, and then it all goes whopper-jaw. The tribes show up, but not to trade, and whoever the poor sod is who owns this cargo is either dead, or ran away, and lost his ship and cargo.’
‘What else?’
Billy Jay came forward, hiking a thumb over his shoulder. ‘You should see this.’
Tobias grabbed the closest lantern and they followed the younger fighter. He had prised the top of a crate loose and yanked it up. Packed in fabric, large hunting knives were visible.
Declan picked one up and inspected it in the lantern light. ‘Pretty good work. Very useful.’
Tobias pulled his own knife from his belt and put it next to the other. ‘Hunting or fighting, not a lot of difference, is there?’
‘What else?’ Declan said to Billy Jay.
‘Bows.’
‘Where?’
‘That crate over there. Short bows, like for horsemen.’
‘How many?’ asked Sixto.
‘I don’t know, must be hundreds.’ He pointed in another direction. ‘And arrows.’
‘How many?’ asked Sixto again.
‘Looks like a dozen crates, so probably …’
‘Thousands,’ said Declan.
Sixto’s face broke into a broad grin, and Declan turned and said, ‘You’re right. Why trade this ship?’
HAVA NODDED THAT SHE UNDERSTOOD as Catharian quickly transcribed as much as he could. He had already scrounged every piece of paper, parchment, and even some scraps of pale wood, and was now using the last bit of charcoal he could find.
The small smugglers’ port was situated close to several towns, and between two good-sized cities, but it became clear that while the Macaulish family might have a fairly sophisticated appreciation of the world beyond Nytanny, they were woefully ignorant of how things worked in this continent.
To remedy that, the grandson, Michael, had been bringing people, one at a time, to the smugglers’ village to tell Hava what they knew about the surrounding nation. Hava thanked the old woman, by the name of Ahana, for telling what she knew, and watched Michael escort her out.
‘The Pride Lords don’t like people travelling much, do they?’ said Hava to Catharian and Red Sweeney.
Catharian nodded, then put down the stubby piece of charcoal he was trying to write with. His fingers were completely blackened and he had smudges on his face where he had absently scratched it. ‘It keeps them from forming friendships or alliances.’ He pushed away from the table and stretched. ‘As best I can tell, the Pride Lords are barely in control, and they use setting neighbour against neighbour as a means of keeping that control.’
‘It’s the Azhante,’ said Red Sweeney. ‘People are angry at each other as a rule, but they’re terrified of the Azhante. And it’s not just having them kick down the door and dragging you out because you got drunk and mouthy, but because they’d drag off your whole family, too.’
‘And the Azhante, for the most part, seem just as fearful as everyone else of having their families dragged off, so they do what the Pride Lords tell them to do,’ added Hava.
‘So, what have you worked out so far?’ asked Red Sweeney. ‘We need a plan fast!’
Hava scowled. ‘Fast?’
‘We’re almost out of rum!’ Red Sweeney laughed and slapped his hand on the table.
Catharian gave him a narrow gaze and said, ‘You’re a smuggler. Go smuggle!’
‘Joking,’ replied Red Sweeney. ‘That’s where Anton and his son are off to, to resupply. Anyway, what have you figured out so far?’
‘I’d like to get a look at how people are getting in and out of Akena. What my old teacher Bodai calls strategy, I call a plan, but what he calls tactics, the fine bits, well, I have no idea how to do that.’
