by Kirby Crow
It was almost the same threat Oleksei had uttered last winter on the deck of the Ostre Sul. “Wishing for a thing won’t make it happen. The king loves me, and I love him, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it. Now go away.”
“I take no orders from whores.”
Qixa grabbed Oleksei's shoulder with a massive hand. “Are you deaf as well as stupid? Begone!” He gave Oleksei a shove that sent him staggering backward. “NOW!”
Qixa's bass roar made Scarlet's ears ring. Wonder how Oleksei would like it if I set his boots on fire to hurry him on his way? He was angry enough at the names Oleksei had called him that just the thought set his palms to itching. Heat flooded into his hands, begging to be set loose. He brought it under control with difficulty. Not here. Not in this closed space, which would be so easy to set to burning. So easy. And not in front of that foul bastard. Stop. Stop it.
The fire in him cooled, and he felt the power easing back from his hands. The effort left a sheen of sweat on his forehead and made black dots swim in his vision.
His eyes cleared. Margun stared at him in open astonishment. He knows, Scarlet thought. He knows I what I was about to do. Scarlet averted his face quickly, afraid that there was much more that Margun could see, including how far his control over his power had slipped. What if he couldn’t stop it next time?
Oleksei spat a curse and turned, throwing a last, hate-filled glance over his shoulder before the doors slammed shut after him.
Off to stir trouble among the crew, no doubt, but that prospect didn’t frighten Scarlet like it would have only a few months ago. Now, he felt only faint pity and disgust. Oleksei was young and free and had the whole wide world at his feet, waiting to be explored from the deck of a mighty brigantine. Instead, he wasted his heart on a man who didn’t want him and hated another who could only do him harm if Oleksei was foolish enough to try it first.
“Why do you suffer such a creature on your crew?” Scarlet asked, never looking away from the doors until he was sure Oleksei had moved away from them. “Liall said he was a criminal.”
“One who was punished severely for his crime,” Qixa reminded. “I lashed him myself for what he did. Oleksei has his blind spots, as we all do, ser, but he’s a good mariner. Very good, if truth be told. I cannot fault his knowledge of the sea, or of my ship.”
“His knowledge of manners could use some work.” Scarlet realized he was being a little rude himself. “I crave your pardon. I don't mean to question your judgement, ser.”
“Nor have you,” Qixa answered. He shrugged off his cloak and Scarlet noted the royal badge on Qixa’s tunic.
“The king granted you rank, I hear,” Scarlet said changing the subject and seeking his chair again. He felt a bit dizzy.
Qixa grinned. “I'm no mere merchant captain now, but the crown's man, titled and landed. I have three razka-kul under my personal command.”
Three warships under Qixa. The sea should quail. “Titled?” That news was surprising. Whatever would Qixa do with land?
Qixa made another of his courtly bows with a flourish. “Lord Qixa of the Kalaxes Isles, if it please you, ser.”
“Congratulations, Lord Qixa,” he said warmly, meaning it.
Qixa sniffed and scratched his nose. “It is a scattering of bare rocks, mostly deserted, with a ring of ice for courtiers, and white waves for ladies in waiting. Waves that could smash my new ship, The Lady, to kindling with a single caress.” He laughed. “Everyone knows this, and so everyone believes that the honors given me are no honors at all. They have forgotten the deep, cold bays beyond the rocks, and that a certain captain once navigated the razor-reefs there. I kept the maps. When we are moored at the Kalaxes, my Lady is as safe as a virgin maid behind an iron door guarded by snow bears.” He gave Scarlet a knowing look. “But I hear that snow bears are not all that safe around you, little lord.”
“The tale has gone as far as that?” Scarlet shook his head. “It was chance, that's all. Chance and dumb luck.”
“You are lucky, no man can doubt it.” Qixa pointed at Scarlet's hands. “But then, you were marked for luck at birth.”
Margun went to the huge oaken doors and barred them. He planted himself before them with his arms crossed.
Tesk, who had not moved during the whole encounter, draped his arm languidly over the back of his chair. He slid the cup of wine he had poured for Scarlet across the scarred table. “Drink.”
Scarlet looked at the cup dubiously and pushed it away with a finger. “That’s how I got here. No thanks.”
“Drugging you was Margun’s idea, but I was the one who gave him the potion,” Tesk admitted. He took the cup, drank half, and set it down. “Not the most gentlemanly act I’ve ever committed. I’m sorry we didn’t confide in you, but we couldn’t take the chance that you’d refuse to leave Sul, or that you would resist. No man is a match for magic.”
“Who wants me dead?” Scarlet asked. He put down the urge to shout and demand they return him to Liall at once.
Tesk exchanged a look with Qixa. “Jarad Hallin, possibly. There are others, ser, but the truth is that list of names is long and we just do not know. Not yet.”
The purple knight. Ressanda’s haughty little horseman. “I knew he disliked me, but he wouldn’t go that far.”
“You don’t know that,” Tesk cautioned. “Not for certain. It’s doubtful that he would have acted on his own, scant lordling that he is. There are greater players at work here, but they do not want to be seen. Not yet.”
He cast Margun a look of doubt. “Not Shikhoza?”
Margun shook his head. “It was Shikhoza who brought us word of the plot and conspired with Captain Qixa to remove you from harm’s way. She was present in the city only recently and knows where fingers would point if an attempt against your life should succeed. Her darling husband knows it as well, and possibly sought to rid himself of two thorns at once by sending her as envoy to the king.”
Scarlet never thought he would feel sorry for Shikhoza. “Poor woman. I don’t think she has a friend in the world.”
“Her reasons for saving you were not altruistic,” Tesk cut in. “Do not waste sympathy on her.”
The old queen, Liall’s mother, had said much the same. “And Eleferi? Did he know?”
“We have no proof of it, but again, it’s possible.”
“What cause does Eleferi have to hate me?”
“He blames you for his brother’s death. Like Shikhoza, he has few allies, but the brothers were loyal to one another.”
“Vladei,” Scarlet said grimly. “I didn’t kill him. Liall did. Why not challenge Liall?”
“The king is a formidable warrior and an excellent swordsman. Eleferi is not. For a coward’s revenge, you are the better target.”
That made sense, though it chilled his blood to hear his life discussed in such terms. “You could have gone to Liall, told him what you knew.”
“Hallin is Baron Ressanda’s man,” Margun spoke up. “Ressanda is of royal blood, the powerful baron of a large province. His circle of influence is wide. If I had arrested him—even killed him—that would have been no guarantee that your life was safe. Besides, the king does not know me, and I had no proof other than Shikhoza’s word.”
“If you had no proof—”
“I believed her,” Margun broke in. He nodded at Tesk. “As did he. The king might not have, due to her many betrayals in the past. If we had left your safety to the king’s judgement, you might now be dead. A Setna serves, my lord. Sometimes even against the wishes of his king.”
Scarlet swallowed past a lump in his throat. “I understand that the people... some of the people... blame me for Cestimir’s death, but why blame me for Vladei?”
Tesk moved a chair to sit next to him. “You were with Vladei when he was killed, and you lived.” He leaned forward. “Try to think like a Rshani.”
Most Rshani did not believe he was a person, but a pet. Treasured and cared for, yet still just a beast. Und
erstanding washed over him like the cold sea.
“Why should a lenilyn live while a prince dies?” Once, those ugly words would have made him rage and curse. Now they only wounded him, and he knew it was because he had grown to want the Rshani to accept him. “It’s still not enough, considering the risk. Liall would gut him once he knew the truth.”
Tesk exchanged a guarded look with Qixa.
“What?” he asked, almost afraid to know.
“You’re correct,” Tesk said. “It is too much to risk merely for personal revenge. Baron Ressanda, or one like him, would have to believe you were a threat to the monarchy in order to act, and that is a very dangerous theme, if it spreads. It’s what we’ve been afraid would happen.”
“What do you think?”
Tesk laughed shortly. “Dear gods, you have to ask? You love the king. You’re no schemer and you care nothing for power. I’ve seen that for myself. But before betraying his king, a man who was once loyal would need to believe you were a threat. More, he would need his spies and assassins to believe it. He would need to—”
“Justify his hate, and someone is happily providing that need,” Scarlet finished. He closed his eyes and surrendered to a deep weariness that threatened to close over his head like water over a drowning man. “Gods, I’m so sick of this muck. Why do your folk need to feel that anyone different from you is lower than you? What do you get out of it?”
“I have no answer, ser. Drink your wine,” Tesk urged. “I’ll have a meal sent in.” He made to rise.
“No!” Scarlet seized Tesk’s embroidered sleeve. “I know Liall. He’ll be half mad with worry. Can’t you get word to him that I’m safe?”
Tesk covered Scarlet’s hands with his own and looked at him straightly. “My dear little friend; we have yet to survive this journey first. Ressanda has minions at sea, as well.”
Scarlet asked the question closest to his heart. “Margun told me that Liall is safe. Is that the truth?”
“Ressanda cares deeply about the continuation of the bloodline of Camira-Druz. Like Alexyin, he’s quite fanatical about it. Your wolf is very safe, for now.” Tesk hesitated. “Jochi was not trusted with our plans to remove you.”
“Because he would have tried to stop you.”
“No.” Something cold moved in Tesk’s eyes. “Because he’s Alexyin’s man.”
GRAY WAVES SLASHED against the hull of the ship as it flowed north along the coast, still in sight of land, but drawing no closer to the shore. Watches were posted fore and aft as well as in the crow’s nest, scanning the horizon for sails. Margun vanished for a time as they sailed past a narrow spur of land jutting out into the sea. Scarlet spotted a flashing light on the spur. It seemed to be a signal. He looked to Tesk for answers.
“Mirror messages from Sul,” Tesk supplied. He had remained at Scarlet’s side throughout the night as he dozed in the great cabin, unable to find true sleep, and now stood close to him on the deck as Scarlet gripped the wooden railing until his fingers ached.
“From Liall?”
“I don’t know, ser. We must wait for the message to be decoded. Be patient.”
Scarlet sighed. He was not good at judging distance over water. Land—and Liall—seemed woefully far away. His belly was in knots with worry. How must Liall be taking his absence? Did he know anything at all, or did his wolf think him dead? He longed for Jochi’s presence, and not just for his endless store of information.
“Jochi didn’t know about any plot on my life,” Scarlet said for the third time.
Tesk sighed. “Ser, I do not argue. It is my feeling that Jochi is innocent, and I very much hope it’s true, for his sake and yours.”
Scarlet frowned. “Hold up... you never said how the thing was supposed to be done. The plot to kill me, I mean.” He had assumed knives in the dark, or perhaps a poison snake like the one left for him in a box at the Nauhinir
Tesk bowed his head. “I did not wish to frighten you.”
“I’m not easy to fright. You needn’t shield me so. Never fear, whatever it is, I won’t faint.”
“A bomb,” Tesk said abruptly.
Scarlet blinked. “I don’t know that word.”
“You’ve seen cannon at work, yes? A bomb is like a small cannon that blows itself apart, destroying everything near it. There was a bomb in the Bleakwatch. It exploded just before you were taken aboard the Ostre Sul, but such weapons are unpredictable, and it did not work the way they intended. The explosion went downwards, into the floor below your apartment, and took out an outer wall.”
Scarlet felt the shock to his bones. “I thought I dreamed that bit,” he murmured. “At the docks... I thought I saw the Bleakwatch on fire.”
“It was. We got you away just in time.” Tesk smiled. “You did not make matters easy for poor Margun. He had planned to spirit you away unseen from the tower, but yours was a more direct approach. I admit, I never thought shopping and espionage went well together, but you pulled it off admirably. With Margun’s improvisation, of course,” he added graciously.
Scarlet felt dazed, and the motion of the ship was not sitting well with his belly. “Quick thinker, he.” He looked up at the sails. Tesk followed his gaze.
“Captain Qixa won the right to fly royal sails last year, for carrying the king over the Norl Ūhn and defending him in battle,” Tesk informed.
“He’s been a good friend to us.”
“What else should he be? Mariners are soldier-merchants. Merchants ally with kings, as do soldiers. They know who pays them.”
Scarlet frowned. It seemed a mercenary way to run a kingdom, but he had to admit he did not know much about ruling. “If that’s true, why don’t you just pay the Tribelanders? You could stop fighting them then.”
“We tried,” Tesk said, surprising him. “They refused gold. Their words were that if men could eat metal, there was iron aplenty under the ice. The payment they truly desire is beyond our means.”
When Tesk saw that Scarlet did not understand, he smiled kindly. “One of the things they desire is to claim the mountain of Ged Fanorl as a birthright of their people, and that will never be allowed.”
“Why is that mountain so sacred to your folk?”
“Because we believe our people began there. That life itself began there.”
Scarlet chewed his lower lip, thinking. “So, it’s like if a bunch of stinking Bledlanders decided they ought to live in Txaxa Tor, with the priests of Deva and the Flower Prince.”
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with any of those things, but I gather that the Tor holds great import to your people and that the Bledlanders are not exactly civilized?” Tesk nodded. “Then yes, it’s precisely like that. You would never allow such a sacrilege. We cannot allow it, either.”
“What’s the other thing?”
“Citizenship. Power in the council of barons, and a share of the bounty of Rshan na Ostre. Not the green bounty. We have little of that. But we do have a great deal of trade and we are, as the world accounts it, a rich nation.”
“The Blackmoat,” Scarlet murmured. “So, all the war and death between your people is over coin and who gets what? And you call us uncivilized. I thought your lot were supposed to be above that sort of thing.”
Tesk bowed extravagantly, like a courtier acknowledging a victory at dice.
Scarlet didn’t feel victorious. It was damned depressing, actually; discovering that for all their knowledge, manners, ships, palaces, and machines, Rshani were no better than the Bled in some ways. Nor were the Morturii, or the Chrj, or even the Aralyrin. He wondered if all of Nemerl was like what he’d seen of it, or if there were some land, somewhere, where the kind people had risen above clawing each other for advantage. Was there no gentle land anywhere? Were none at peace?
Peace is for the Overworld, Rannon used to say. Maybe he was right. It saddened Scarlet to realize that a slaver probably had the world righter than he did.
Tesk seemed to sense his mood. He put his hand lightly on
Scarlet’s shoulder. “I have some news that may cheer you. Your sister has settled in Rusa.”
A warmth settled over Scarlet. “Annaya is well?”
“Quite well. She manages a fabric shop in the market with her husband’s family.”
“And Shansi?”
“He gave up his apprenticeship. Patra is no longer safe for Hilurin, as you know, so when they heard of a good offer, they took it.”
“Rusa,” Scarlet said with a sigh. “It’s a grand city, the biggest in Byzantur. She’ll be happy there.” He stared at Tesk, marveling. “How did you manage to find this out? For that matter, why would you?”
“The king charged me to send her a purse of gold as a royal gift. I had to know where to send my man, didn’t I? You do remember requesting such a thing?”
“I was kidding!”
“Never joke with a king about money.”
Scarlet gave him a narrow look and shook his head. “You haven’t had enough time to send messages to Patra and back. Admit it: you sent a man in the winter.”
“Months ago,” Tesk said happily. “Before the ice closed the bay.” The wind snagged a long length of his silver hair and drew it out like a white veil.
Scarlet stared, suddenly taken by the picture of him. Tesk was no Liall, true. No man alive could hold a candle to Liall, in Scarlet’s opinion, but heads turned when Tesk walked into a room. Women followed him with their eyes. Men softened their voices and made excuses to be near him. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything.” Tesk smiled. “I’m quite fond of you, my lord. There are few favors I would refuse you.”
“Do you have a wife?”
Tesk arched an eyebrow. “I do not.”
“Children?”
“None, to my knowledge. Nor a mistress, nor a lover.” He watched Scarlet closely. “I know what that frown means. I’ve puzzled you and you’re worried.” He leaned on the railing and looked out over the water. “Don’t be. Even if I felt the need for intimacy—which I do not—I decided long ago that such attachments were too costly for a man sworn to the service of the crown.”