“Why did she run?” asked Aufors.
“Somehow, she knew they were coming. The assassins.” He laughed, a little wildly. “I wish she’d given us more notice.”
“The place was attacked?”
“Oh, they attacked right enough. If she hadn’t warned me, they’d have overrun the place, but as it was, she barred the outer door and I got the city door barred just before they came hammering at it. I put a man on the roof, to watch, and he said they were bringing ladders down the street just when the message came to get out. They’ll be in over the roof by now …”
His words were lost in a crumping noise that shook the soil beneath them and made them stagger. Over their shoulders they saw the gatehouse disappear behind a cloud of dust and smoke that spewed through the opening in the city wall. The crowd outside the city gate howled.
“The Prince?” cried the Captain from the ramp top.
“He wasn’t there, sir,” answered the com-man. “He’d gone off with the Invigilator, hunting …”
As they came up the ramp, the crowd at the city gate screamed itself into a frenzied attack. The man at the slip line tugged it loose and followed them inside where the Captain had men waiting to pull the ramp aboard. As the ship wallowed sluggishly upward under its slowly inflating balloon, they looked down onto the approaching mob, now a sea of blades waving impotently as the ship ascended to the slow hiss of gas being released into the huge bags. Behind the dunes, no one moved, though a few huddled forms still lay there.
The Captain tallied the men aboard and reported to Aufors. “All here but the Prince, the Invigilator, the Marshal, and two guards.”
“And my wife and child,” snapped Aufors. “I can’t believe this attack. It makes no sense at all!”
“You’ll have to make some sense of it, Colonel, for you are now in command,” said the Captain through his teeth.
The com-man from the residence had his head out a port, watching the confused mob below. Aufors grasped his shoulder and pushed him into a seat, then sat across from him and demanded, “Tell me everything that happened after I left. Every detail!”
The man rubbed his head and took a deep breath. “I guess the first thing was a messenger came from the Shah to invite you and the Prince and the Invigilator to go hunting with His Effulgence.”
“Me?” snarled Aufors. “By name?”
“You, sir. By name. Or rank, rather. The Colonel, that’s what the man said. Well, you were out here at the ship. The messenger said they could wait until you returned, but the Prince said he could do without you quite nicely. He was a bit miffed, sir, them asking for you along with him and the Invigilator. Anyhow, off the two of them went with the Shah’s man—”
“Out of which door?” demanded Aufors.
“The desert door, sir. I stood there with the guard, while he mounted and rode out onto the sands. Well, he was no sooner gone than another messenger came to the city door, to invite the lady to walk in the garden again.”
“Aha,” said Aufors.
“Does this mean something?” the Captain asked.
“It would seem they were picking us off a few at a time, wouldn’t it?” Aufors grated. Then, to his informant, “Go on. What next?”
“Let’s see, sir. Ah. I guess the next thing was the Marshal agreed your lady would go. Since the baby-tender was out here with you, the Marshal took the man who was off duty and set him down next the baby. Baby went to sleep. Meantime, your lady was getting herself dressed.”
“When was this?”
“Not long after you left. Well, she was soon dressed, but the escort didn’t come for her. No one came. Well, you know the Marshal, sir. He waits on no man, and he was soon thundering about full of bloody bedamn this and bloody bedamn that, putting on quite a show …”
Aufors whispered, “A show? You felt he was acting?”
The com-man paused, mouth open. “Now you mention it, sir. Yes. He was, and in no time at all he said he was going off to the palace to find out the arrangements. He went by the street door, and he took the other two guards with him.”
Aufors blinked slowly, not giving voice to his fury. He had always admired the Marshal’s skills, but it seemed to him now that off the battlefield, the man was an idiot.
The com-man read his face. “Well, I knew you were wondering, sir, just how it was we didn’t have the outer doors covered. Well, the Marshal and the men weren’t long gone when your lady was warned, somehow, that they were coming for her.”
“But not for a garden walk,” Aufors said bleakly.
“No, sir. So, she went by me shouting to bar the door and message the ship. I saw the way she went, then I did what she said, barred the door and sent the message. Then I checked the door through the city wall. That one was barred, no doubt by your lady, sir, for she told me to get the other one. While I was there, the old woman came down the stairs and went by me with the child, as I’ve said, and went through toward the kitchen. The man who’d been baby-tending was behind her, and I told him to stay by the door while I followed her as far as the way down and out, then I got back to the com. By that time, everyone was gathered in one place, outside the com-room, and when I got your message to evacuate, I set the charges in the com-room and got everyone out.”
“How did the Marchioness know they intended harm?” the Captain asked.
The com-man replied, “It had to be the old woman, Captain, Colonel. Who else? And if the Shah had wanted the two of you to begin with, Colonel, it would explain the two attacks, both out here and on the residence. Stands to reason it was you they were after. They already had Delganor, the Invigilator, and the Marshal.”
“They miscalculated,” said the Captain.
“They and we,” Aufors said. “Because of failed intelligence, Captain. We didn’t know they intended to pick us off. They didn’t know about the cannon or your off-world detectors. We didn’t know they were after me or Genevieve, and they didn’t know Genevieve would be warned. Why they wanted her is a mystery to me, unless it has to do with all their nonsense about women, but why did they want me? They already had the Prince.”
“My judgment would be that they can’t use the Prince for what they have in mind,” said the Captain in a dead, cold voice. “I’ve been here before, Colonel. On one occasion, a few years back, an officer of my crew was cut into pieces and left at the bottom of the ramp, merely, so the Prince said, to make a point. Perhaps they felt they needed to make another point.”
“To the Prince?” asked Aufors. “And you think I was to have been the victim?”
The Captain shrugged. “You are not of the nobility, Colonel, so your death would not offend the nobility of Haven. Invigilator Rongor is of the nobility, as is the Prince. Noble or not, you are high enough in rank to leave a noticeable hole, as am I. Either one of us would probably serve as a warning, but if they kill me, the ship might not make it back to Haven, and they wouldn’t want that. Their trade depends upon Haven and the nobility. You would serve well to make a point.”
“I would, or my wife.”
“No, not the lady. Forgive me, sir, but the Mahahmbi don’t think women make any point at all. If they took your woman, they’d expect you to find another. The Mahahmbi consider women disposable; they buy them or steal them, just as they buy or steal equipment, with no more importance than that.”
Aufors narrowed his eyes. “So they want to make a point to the Prince. The Prince, and no doubt the Invigilator as well, want them to increase P’naki production, so the point being made must be let this matter alone! They do not want to talk about increasing P’naki.”
The Captain sighed and pursed his mouth. “Likely it is the matter of P’naki, yes, sir.”
Aufors started to put his anger into words, then shut his mouth, for the Captain was speaking to the men who had crowded into the control area, and nothing would be gained by shouting at the Captain in front of his men. Shout he would, however. At someone. Sooner or later.
The Captain was s
aying, “We haven’t enough fuel to hang here against the wind indefinitely. We’ll have to moor ourselves on the nearest island while we decide what to do next. Helmsman, steer us across the strait. The rest of you, sort yourselves out. Find rooms to bed in and clear the ways.”
The others went, but Aufors stayed.
“So you’re still digging,” the Captain murmured.
“Shouldn’t I be?” he replied angrily.
“Yes, Colonel. Of course you should. You’re angry with me because you think I should have told you many things you weren’t told. I was under orders not to do so. You and I, sir, we obey orders, do we not?”
“Usually,” Aufors grated, thinking to himself that there were a good many he would not obey, including ones that put his fellow men into harm’s way.
“Also,” the Captain went on, “you are in love with your wife, you delight in your son.”
“You may be sure I’m going after them.”
“Oh, yes, and you’re also curious about what’s going on, just as I have been for years, except that I’ve not had the resolution to do anything about it except listen to whispers. That’s all I know: whispers. There is one aboard, however, who might know more than I. Ask the doctor, Colonel.”
“Ask him what?”
The Captain grinned mirthlessly, his skull face reflected in the dials before him, fixing Aufors with glittering eyes. “I’ve always felt the doctor knew more than the rest of us about P’naki.”
In the throne room at Havenor, the Lord Paramount was receiving a report from one of his spies, a man the Prince would have been unhappily surprised to see kneeling subserviently before His Majesty.
“Well, Wiezal! So Prince Delganor is now separated from the ship and from his men!” The Lord Paramount sat up quite straight and settled his crown straight on his head. “How did you find that out?”
“You asked me to arrange to keep tabs on the mission, Your Majesty. Accordingly, we put listening devices on the ship, and we stationed men all along the islands to relay the message along the Stone Trail, to Frangía, and thence to Bliggen, and thence up the road to Havenor. We receive the message only a few hours after it has left the vicinity of Mahahm.”
“But the Prince is currently with the Shah? Correct? And the Shah does not want any trifling with … P’naki?”
“It’s rather confusing, Your Majesty, full of noise and cross talk, and our off-world technicians have to sort it all out when we receive the record here. All we really know is that the Prince, the Marshal, and the Invigilator are with the Shah, that the Marshal’s daughter has run away, and that her husband will no doubt go looking for her.”
“Always running off, that one, isn’t she?” said the Lord Paramount in an interested voice. “Ran off from Delganor, before. Said at the time she had good sense. Well. Events have conspired to give us an opportunity!”
“Indeed, Your Majesty.”
“And quite good time, too. Delganor was becoming … almost overt. Are my good little Frangians out there, Wiezal?”
“Waiting, Your Majesty.”
“Let them come in. And stay to listen.”
They came in, three lean, browned men with squinty eyes and callused hands. They bowed. The Lord Paramount nodded.
“Shipment on the way, is it?”
“The supply ships are halfway to Mahahm, Your Majesty,” said their spokesman. “Trip shouldn’t take much longer, depending on the wind.”
“Slight change in plans,” said the Lord Paramount. “I presume you can communicate with your ships?”
“Oh, yes, Your Majesty. Indeed.”
“One of my airships is moored on an island near Mahahm. When your ship gets there, send someone ashore and give the Captain this message: He and the ship are to return to Bliggen at once, without waiting for the Prince. If he asks for a code phrase that tells him the message is really from me, tell him ‘Down with sneaks and lurkers.’”
“‘Down with sneaks and lurkers,’ your Majesty?”
“The Captain will know the message is from me. Then, when your ships arrive offshore of Mahahm, they should send a little boat ashore and tell the Shah’s man that payment is to be made directly to them, not returned by Prince Delganor in the airship. Understand?”
“Perfectly,” said the spokesman.
“Payment is to consist of the usual shipment of P’naki, twenty jars, well sealed, the Marshal and the Invigilator, alive and in good condition, and the dead body of Prince Delganor in any condition at all, so long as one can ascertain it is indeed the Prince. Your people are not to unload the food or other supplies they are carrying until payment is received. Now, pay attention. The substance in the jars is extremely condensed when you receive it. It gets prepared for use here in Havenor. Warn your people not to unseal it on the ship. Damp air destroys the efficacy, and none of us want to see more of our people dying of batfly fever.”
“We understand, Your Majesty.”
“Once they’re sure they have the Prince, they may dump his body overboard,” continued the Lord Paramount, “Suitably weighted. And as always, we do not talk about our arrangement.” He looked significantly at the Aresians on either side of the door, each with a hand on his weapon. “Do we? My cousin, the Duke of Frangía, would be most upset if he learned I had delayed his return to the provincial throne because of my gratitude to the Mariner’s Guild of Frangía.”
They replied in unison, “Silence is sworn, Your Majesty.”
“Thus Frangía continues in peace in the Whatever.” The Lord Paramount smiled. “As it has for some time now.”
“Peace and Whatever,” they intoned, bowing themselves out backwards.
Wiezal was summoned forward from the corner in which he’d placed himself.
“Have I forgotten anything?” asked the Lord Paramount.
“Not if it works,” said Wiezal. “You’ll have the Prince done for, you’ll have your shipment you want, and you’ll have the Marshal and Invigilator back.”
“It’s true that I’ve asked for the Marshal back,” said the Lord Paramount fretfully. “But I’m not at all sure I want him! The man is as thick as craylet bisque! Asked him once if his daughter was a good candidate for …” His voice faded, as though he had forgotten what he was saying. He nodded, then said jerkily, “Well, he didn’t follow me at all.”
He stared distractedly at Wiezal, who responded by looking puzzled. He was puzzled more and more lately, when it came to things the Lord Paramount ordered or said or claimed he had said. The man was getting … well, forgetful was the most tactful word Wiezal could think of.
The Lord Paramount came to himself with a start. “I’m rambling. Just rambling. He’ll be wiser now. I’m sure Rongor has put him in the picture. That’s an Invigilator’s job, right? Thick as craylet bisque. Amazing.” He sat back on his throne and reached for the top catalog on the pile.
Wisely, Wiezal went.
TWENTY-THREE
The Marae Morehu
GENEVIEVE WOKE IN THE MARAE. FOR A LONG TIME SHE lay in the tall stone room with her eyes half closed, listening for Dovidi’s breathing, only slowly realizing that he wasn’t there. Her throat tightened as she tried to remember where she was, when she was: not on the ship, not in Mahahm-qum, not on the desert. Panic ebbed. She was at the marae, and three days had passed since she fled the city.
She opened her eyes to stare upward. Pallid light gathered once more around the high window through which the cool of the night had flowed, as into a well.
“With one frog in it,” she murmured.
“What frog?” asked a familiar voice from across the room.
She sat up, pushing her tangled hair away from her face. A woman occupied the chair across the room, hands lying in her lap, sandaled feet together beside a cloth bundle, face quiet. Genevieve had never seen her before.
“I was thinking the room is like a well,” confessed Genevieve. “It is full of night cool, and I am the frog in it.”
The woman smiled, v
ery slightly, as though smiling were an alien habit, one she had only recently learned of. “Well, there are at least two of us frogs, relishing the cool of the morning. Have you rested?”
“I must have. I didn’t wake.” Without warning, her eyes filled with tears. “I woke up thinking of Dovidi. I’ve left him. I’ve abandoned him….”
“You feel guilty over that?”
“Of course I do. He’ll think I’ve abandoned him.”
“No. He won’t. Babies recognize things they have seen, smelled, tasted, or felt, but they don’t remember them separate from the event until they are older. Don’t you believe Awhero will keep him safe?”
Genevieve searched inwardly for the answer to that, finding a complete certainty. “I know she will if she can.”
“Then blame your hours of sleep on your confidence in her. Unless you believe it is your duty to be forever guilty of some unspecified sin. Some women do. If you are one of them, you will be little good to us or yourself.”
Though the woman had spoken as though, she didn’t care, she was watching Genevieve with concentrated attention.
Genevieve thought about this, running her fingers into the tangled mass of her hair. “No. That’s not my duty, but I grieve over his absence. I miss him. He has been with me a while now, inside or beside.”
“Of course you miss him. If you had been less intelligent about his safety, you might have brought him with you as a foolish woman would, putting instinct ahead of good sense. If you had done that, neither of you would have survived. A baby wailing in the sands and those winged hunters would have been on you in moments. You were right to let him go. The old woman was right to take him.”
“Do you know her?”
“Certainly I know her. Awhero is what you might call a ham, an eccentric, a woman who has grown to love the part she plays. She has virtually invented the role of malghaste for others to copy, but she is nonetheless reliable. The child will be all right: dirtier than with you, more shared among caretakers than with you, passed about a great deal more from one to another, no doubt, but all right.”
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