By nightfall, watching Kinade and his crew navigate in the dark, treacherous waters of the bay with near perfect adeptness, she had the unmistakable sense of being in the company of a band of seagoing mercenaries.
Though they were not exactly that, she decided.
She finally cornered Kinade strolling near the stern on the second evening and asked him: "You are pirates, aren't you?"
Kinade chuckled. "Yes," he said simply, then he continued on his walk.
Madia fell asleep that night imagining what pirates did with captives, but she dreamed of what they did with friends.
* * *
"Kinade expects we will make port at Kurtek by dark," Frost said, standing on the aft deck platform just ahead of the wheel. The late afternoon sun had warmed the air and the deck to the point of discomfort. Sweat glistened on Frost's brow, and Madia used her sleeve to wipe her own. Sharryl and Rosivok stood just below, leaned against the portside rail of the main deck, idly watching the sea roll past. Like herself, Madia had the impression that the two Subartans had seldom known this experience; they kept their moods well hidden even now, but with each large swell of the sea, each subsequent fall of the deck, a look of pale affliction crossed their faces. Frost, remarkably, was holding up well.
"Have you decided what we will do once we arrive?" Madia asked.
"No," Frost answered. Nothing else.
"Why not?"
"You had no plan when you insisted everyone follow you to Kamrit, not even when we arrived!"
"I was foolish."
"I know."
"Very well, but have you at least thought about it?"
Frost was silent a moment. "Perhaps," he said finally.
You will, she thought, because I will force you; there has been enough foolishness. "I hated leaving Kamrit again," she said. "I hate having to wait even one day to do something about Ferris, something that will erase the awful things that have happened. I need to know your plan. I can't just do nothing!"
"So it would seem," Frost said, careworn.
Enough, she thought. Make your point. "When we boarded this ship, and the idea of going back to Kamrit became real, I felt—I felt badly. I know that wanting to do something and actually doing it are two different things. But I keep thinking it over."
"Thinking what over?"
"Everything, I guess. I don't want to go back to Kamrit, and yet I do, and I want you to go with me. I think maybe we both have to go back, even if it is hopeless. But then I wonder, is our course so hopeless? If we find the Demon Blade, that is?"
Frost looked at her and she thought how strange his expression was. He had almost begun to look himself again during the past week: brash, curious, even wearing that impudent smile of his once or twice while talking with Kinade. But all of that was suddenly gone again now.
"I don't know any of the answers," he said. "The Blade has been kept secret for centuries, and even if we manage to find it, then live to tell about it, we will not know what powers it has without Ramins to tell us, if even he knew. How can I say whether it might be used against Ferris?"
"Nothing at all is known, no hint?"
"No. You see, we have only an ancient legend, whimsical intentions, and no good reason to think one might speak to the other. And I see a bad omen or two, which everyone else seems content to ignore."
"Never mind the omens. Tell me what you do know about the legend," Madia pressed.
Frost simply looked at her for a moment, then slowly began, "The Blade was used by the ancient wizards to defeat the demons when their numbers threatened to overwhelm the world, but the knowledge of how this was accomplished, all specific knowledge of the Blade, was purposely guarded—perhaps too well—and for centuries has rested solely with the wizard appointed keeper."
"Ramins."
Frost nodded.
"Yet Aphan believes he is dead."
"That may be true."
"Then there is no hope. Yet you must have a plan of some kind, or you would not have come at all."
"We may find allies among the court wizards of the northern kings, Grish, perhaps, or Marrn—both competent men, in their right. If we find the Blade, they and others like them might help me learn its powers. But even then, I doubt they will move with us against such a power as Ferris without a great army to back them, and that army may not exist."
"But we don't know that we can trust any of them," Madia said. "Bouren soldiers tried to kill me, after all, and distrust has spread throughout the realm, according to the council at Glister."
"The northern kings are under attack in their own lands by marauding forces from Ariman even now."
"I still hold that Lord Ivran and some of the other great lords may have been in league with Ferris, at least until Kamrit's soldiers came looking for the Blade, or perhaps until Ferris decided he did not need their loyalty any longer. Either way, I can't count on them. They must still believe Ferris is only doing my father's bidding. They will not wish to trust the daughter of a king who betrayed them in life and in death. Especially . . . me."
"All quite true," Frost said. "Still, we have begun, and we should continue. We will . . . take our chances."
I will be taking most of them, Madia thought, looking out to sea. Then she decided that Frost meant it as a joke; she would not have realized the humor only a few weeks ago. She felt the deck move gently beneath her, rising, falling, and noticed that her stomach wanted to churn. Though this was just an excuse.
"I pushed myself, and you, all the way to Kamrit, and then out of Glister as well. And yet I don't really know what the hell I am doing at all. 'Never give everything, never risk everything on a single chance.' You told me that once. Yet that is all I keep doing. Maybe you're right, Frost, but neither way seems to work all the same."
Frost nodded. "I have long preferred that the odds be firmly on my side, and they have not been."
"Exactly." She looked at Frost, a long look. "But they still aren't. So if you can't go through with any of this, if you want to leave these lands and forget about the trouble I've caused you, I will understand. Sometimes I think I was better off not caring about anything, just looking out for myself, and maybe you were, too. I'm trying to become someone new, someone who can atone for all the wrong that she has done, but maybe I can't do that. Maybe I never will be that person."
"I think almost no one ever is."
He looked away, far away, eyes going blank as he turned inside and lost himself there; he seemed to leave her, to leave the world, for a moment.
"So, why are you here?" she asked.
Frost turned suddenly darker, more fixed. "One's image can be a consideration. To others, and to one's self. 'The wizard that runs away,' you see. 'The worthless wizard.' Even you think me a coward. I have purposely never dwelled on self, as it is too demanding. Who am I? What am I? After all, who needs to know? Though now, thanks to you, I find myself forced to take a proper good look."
"I am sorry," Madia said.
"No, it may be a good thing . . . eventually."
"What do you see?"
"I am still looking."
"Well, so am I."
She looked up as the sounds of a fresh commotion reached her ears. Men were suddenly running in all directions. Captain Kinade emerged from below, then came around and mounted the aft deck, joining Frost and Madia and the young man who stood behind them at the wheel.
Kinade lifted a small telescope to his eye, then extended it to focus. The ship was clearly visible to any eye now, off the port side, sailing due south. "Man the oars!" Kinade shouted. "Prepare to ram and board!"
* * *
"You two might want to get out of sight," Kinade said, acknowledging Frost and Madia briefly. He looked below then, to the main deck. Sharryl and Rosivok were headed up toward him. "Those two, though, they might want a part of this."
"Part of what?" Madia demanded, feeling her pulse quicken as the pilot spun his wheel and the bow came around, bearing straight on toward the passing ves
sel.
"She'll be a merchantman from the fleet of Lord Ferris," Kinade explained, raising the telescope to his eye once more. "Out of Kamrit, like as not, then Brintel, then Haven, now on to Kurtek, same as you. She'll still have a cargo, along with whatever they collected in gold to pay the good Lord Ferris' heavy taxes. We've managed to take a couple like her, and been well pleased we did!"
"But the council made no mention of this!" Madia blurted out, feeling her voice nearly break into a squeak. "What of your duty? You are at our service now!"
"And ours, my lady," Kinade responded, briefly grinning at her. "And it is my duty I'm about! We have our principles, after all, like any men."
"What do you know of principles?" Madia demanded.
"We know who we are. You look for a magical blade, but I am content with the one I have." With that Kinade drew his scimitar from its scabbard and held it up. "The Lord Ferris just about begs to have his purse stripped. He is too rich, and getting richer, and draws sympathy from no one. When a man's wool grows thicker than that on the fattest sheep in Ikaydin, I say he needs a bit of shearing."
"So you just sail around sinking Kamrit's merchant fleet? And I suppose you keep the booty for yourselves?" Madia pressed, watching the other ship draw closer, sensing the increase in their own speed as the sails filled again and Kinade's oarsman got their rhythm.
"Ferris cares not whose money and goods he takes, or how many men are ruined by it," Kinade answered. "What that says to the likes of us is that I can do the same to him. And I won't wait, my lady, no matter what. Ferris has already started putting armed men aboard some of his fleet. Soon enough, the takin' won't be so easy. That ship, by my notice, is manned by an ordinary lot. They don't fight much, not when they can swim to shore."
"But what about us?" she demanded again. "You were paid to deliver us safely to Kurtek, not to take us into a pirate's battle!" She looked to Frost, silently pleading support. He cleared his throat.
"I too object, Captain, since this action will put us at risk. If something should go wrong, if your ship sinks or you and your crew get yourselves killed, we might not get to Kurtek at all. We may be the ones swimming to shore. I would expect you to restrain yourself, under the circumstances, no matter how inviting a target that ship is."
"Of course," Madia insisted, "you must use proper judgment!"
"I am doing exactly that, my lady," Kinade said, grinning now like a boy in a bordello. "We are pirates, after all. That is who we are, and this is what we do. And we are very good at it, I assure you. No harm will come to you. Now, go below, both of you, and try not to worry yourselves sick. What of your Subartan friends?"
"They are retained to guard me and will have no place in this adventure," Frost told him.
"Too bad," Kinade said, and he went to join his men. Both ships were drawing close together now.
"What about a warding spell of some kind to protect us?" Madia asked Frost. "Like those you used at the castle."
"No," Frost replied, looking past her. "Come with me. I fear that if we go below we may never come up." He took hold of Madia's arm and led her to the rail just behind the wheelman. She held on, and looked back to see the other ship now dead ahead, just a strong stone's throw away. She steadied herself as the oars pulled back once more, united as the heavy bow rose cleanly on a swell, then crashed amidships like a god's own thunder into the side of the merchantman.
Most of Kinade's crew leaped to the deck of the other ship as soon as lines had been tossed. True to Kinade's predictions, many of the merchantman's crew in turn leaped over the starboard side into the sea and began swimming toward the coast of Ariman. The few men who stayed and fought died quickly, no match for the proficient pirate swordsman.
Without prodding, Kinade's men hurried to all corners of the captured vessel, and soon began emerging with sacks and boxes and armfuls of rolled materials. The merchantman was already listing badly, taking on water through the split in her hull. The other men quickly followed, bringing what they could aboard, then casting free their lines. Kinade came just behind them. He shouted fresh commands and the oarsmen went to work again, backing the ship away from the sinking merchantman. As soon as they were free, the pilot turned the bow north once more, toward Kurtek.
Madia watched the whole thing with the sort of awe usually reserved for the most violent late summer thunderstorms—so many elements all coming so quickly together, then the flash and fury of the event itself, and the intense tranquility that seemed to drift cool and wet and pungent through air and the mind afterward. How extraordinary, she thought.
How exciting. . . .
Kinade had been right, she knew. This was who he was, what he did, what he had to do. They were pirates, after all. No excuses, no choice.
"Frost," she said, leaning close to his ear, "whether we find the Blade or not, I have to go back to Kamrit, I have to try, even if there is no chance at all. There isn't any other choice for me." For the daughter of the king, she told herself.
"I know," Frost replied.
She looked at him, and she knew that he saw this too, that he had somehow come upon almost the very same thought.
"It is a painful truth, but undeniable," he said. "Much as I think I would like to, I find it difficult to consider walking away from Ferris, or from you, forever. But you were right, Madia, Ferris did not just beat me, he did more than that. The injuries inflicted upon me were . . . many. Ferris has made me less than what I was, less than what I would be."
"So," Madia said, trying a weak grin, "neither one of us is sure about you."
"I have come this far."
"I know." She stood close to him, very close. "You are going back with me, Frost, aren't you, no matter what?"
"I would rather not think of it in quite those terms."
"Think of it however you like, but it all seems rather simple now. We go to do what we must."
"I see," Frost said, barely glancing at her, but she saw the light in his eye, the magic. He walked a few paces along the deck rail, looking out over the sea to the curved horizon beyond. "Perhaps," he said, nodding, "you are right."
They spoke little the rest of the day, but Madia thought she could sense something different about Frost every time they were near each other, a different look, or something in the way he carried himself. But he would not talk to her, not about anything, and she wasn't sure what that meant.
The sun had nearly set when Kinade weighed anchor a hundred yards from the shore at Kurtek. Orange colors washed the sky among the long straight clouds on the western horizon, fading quickly, revealing a rising full moon.
"My men will row you in," Kinade explained. "We are not entirely welcome in this port. We sail again before first light, and you are on your own."
"That will have to do," Frost told him, checking the supplies Rosivok and Sharryl had gathered.
"I think we are ready," Madia added, looking at Frost, his round face half-lit by the moon. He nodded to her, though she could not read his look.
They followed Kinade to a rope ladder, then climbed down into a wooden boat manned by four oarsmen. Shoulder bags filled with supplies were handed down after them. In minutes the boat was slipping between the dark, silent hulls of other ships in the harbor, then bumping gently against docking planks that hovered barely above the level of the high tide. Distant voices and the smell of fish and water-soaked timbers rose to greet them, mixed with the foul smell of the city's harbor district just beyond. As soon as the four of them were ashore the boat was gone.
"We too must leave the city before morning," Rosivok said. "Ferris' soldiers may look for us even here, and there is plenty of trouble to be had even if they do not."
"I agree," Frost said. "The best road to Golemesk passes through much open country, and much of that in Ariman. We will travel due west instead, then climb the wall into Ikaydin. We can follow the edge of the plateau then, until we reach the Thorun River. The river will lead us into Golemesk from the north."
"
A good plan," Madia remarked. "There may be very few others in that part of the swamp."
Frost nodded. "It is our best chance."
"Though a very long journey," Rosivok said. "Are you up to it, master?"
Frost shrugged. "I will let you know as I find out."
"Then let us get started," Madia said, picking up her pack, turning toward the torches of the city beyond.
"Wait," Frost said, putting a hand on Madia's shoulder. "As Rosivok said, these streets can be filled with dangers. A small warding spell is in order." He closed his eyes and spoke briefly under his breath. Then he let go and set off along the wharf, giving the others no choice other than to catch up.
Madia brought up the rear carrying a smile inside that warmed her slightly. Magic, she thought, and none too soon. She had traveled into unfamiliar lands before; this time, though, was nothing like the others.
A storm was brewing, elements all coming together; the flash and fury were yet to come.
Chapter XVIII
"Three travelers have come asking for you," Keara said, standing in the doorway. "Friends from Kamrit, they say. They wait at the corner table, near the window."
Hoke looked up from his ledgers. "Would they not say who they were?"
"No, but they are two men, both knights, and a woman. A lady, I'd say."
"Really." Hoke put the ledger away, then paused as he stood up. Whoever they were, a woman among them likely meant they were not here to start trouble. Still . . .
There had been few friendly visitors from Kamrit in recent weeks, which itself was not a good sign, and the news an occasional sympathizer did manage to bring kept getting worse. He gathered his sword, then followed Keara out.
Hoke recognized all three visitors the moment he set eyes on them. All slightly older than he remembered, but a welcome sight nonetheless.
Lady Anna leapt up the instant she saw Hoke. He had been friends with her husband, Lord Grand Chamberlain Renall, and he had returned to Kamrit for a short time to comfort Lord Renall's widow after his death. He and Anna had come to know each other well enough.
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