The Dagger's Path

by Glenda Larke

  Ardhi clasped his hands to his head in a gesture of helpless indecision. “And if you stay and he is no longer under your influence, he’ll kill you. Saker, do you remember how angry you were with me when you realised what my gift of the plume did to you? There was a time when you would have happily strangled me. Do you think Lustgrader will ever forgive you?”

  He thought about that, tried to think dispassionately about a man he’d grown to dislike. One conclusion came to mind: Lustgrader was not a forgiving man.

  “He’s not just the captain of this ship; he’s commander of this fleet,” Ardhi added quietly. “I’ve been a sailor for the Lowmians long enough to know that, on his ship, the captain is a king. He can kill you in any fashion that pleases him, and there’s no law to stop him. He is the law.”

  “Let’s not overreact. We don’t even know what he was carrying when he left the ship, let alone what he was going to do with it. It could have been anything. And I am not one of his crew. I’m employed by the man who owns this vessel. The man who pays Lustgrader’s wages. Kesleer.”

  “Doesn’t matter. If he rids himself of the plume’s witchery, you’re a dead man.”

  “I doubt Captain Lustgrader is going to send a sailor to knife me in the middle of the night. Ardhi, if I am in that much trouble, so is Sorrel, and I can’t see any way I can get her off the ship without someone seeing. I won’t sleep in my hammock, all right? I’ll find somewhere else, and I’ll sleep with my sword.”

  The officer on watch bellowed Ardhi’s name; Ardhi muttered something in his own tongue that sounded like an imprecation, and disappeared up the shrouds.

  Saker left the weather deck, cursing to himself. He was worried; that fobbing dagger had signalled timely warnings far too often for him to ignore another. If there was trouble, he needed an escape route. The galley, he thought, behind the stove. No one will think of looking for me there. There was a small rubbish hatch from which he could wriggle through into the sea if escape was necessary.

  But what about Sorrel?

  Lord Juster Dornbeck came up onto the deck of Golden Petrel just at sunrise. Usually, if he saw the sun come up when he was in port, it was because he hadn’t yet been to bed. Not this time. In the Karradar Islands, he was disinclined to drink too much, or sleep too much. In this particular island group, poised as it was between the Va-cherished and the Va-forsaken Hemispheres but belonging to neither, the watchful lived longer.

  I have to admit, though, dawn does have something to recommend it. The bay looks confoundedly pretty at this time of the day.

  He nodded to the seaman on watch on the poop deck. “You can go below, Dolf. Break your fast.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  He let his gaze wander over the ship and still felt a familiar delight. Beggar me speechless if she isn’t a beautiful maid!

  He’d been more than satisfied with the voyage from Ardrone. Golden Petrel was fast and answered the helm better than any ship he’d previously captained.

  He leaned on the taffrail to gaze through his spyglass at the fleet that had arrived the previous afternoon, all Lowmian ships flying Lowmian flags. He’d sent one of his small boats over there with several of his crew posing as islanders with goods to sell and they’d come back with not only the names of all the vessels, but a lot of other useful detail, like how many cannons each had, and what poundage. His master’s mate, who was always drawing on a slate, or paper if he could get it, had sketched all four ships in detail for him.

  Juster had studied all the drawings. A fifth vessel, a carrack, had joined them some time during the night, he noted. He’d send someone over there to have a look at that one too, but he was sure this was the first fleet sent, not by Kesleer’s company, but by the Lowmian Spicerie Trading Company. It was in no danger from him now. They had no cargo to tempt him.

  Later, out on the high seas, anything could happen. Ah, Saker, I’m sorry, but it will come to a sea battle one day.

  He thought of the young witan often, and the man’s condemnation of privateering as blatant piracy. Strange how they’d become such good friends when they believed in different things and had so little in common. But he’d liked Saker. Indeed, he’d laughed out loud when he’d heard how King Edwayn’s men had gone to the shrine where Saker was supposed to have died, only to find empty manacles still attached to the tree–and no bones. The witan led a charmed life.

  I wonder what you did with my rubies. I hope you’re safe, my friend, wherever you are.

  In the morning, Sorrel packed up everything she had, ready to leave. Banstel, the ship’s boy, brought her breakfast and Piper’s goat’s milk in her tiny cuddy, as usual.

  When the lad returned to collect her plate and mug an hour later, he said, “Message fer you from the cap’n, mistress. He says come up on deck with the babe and your things. He’s sending you ashore in the dinghy.”

  “Oh, but I haven’t spoken to Mynster Heron! He was arranging for me to—He was arranging what I need ashore.”

  “I’ll find him and tell him what’s betide, if you like, ma’am. But I wouldn’t keep the cap’n waiting, if I was you. His face would sour beer this morn. Right proper foul! If you’ll give me your belongings, I’ll take them topside now.”

  There wasn’t much. It was the work of a moment to wrap all she possessed–and all that Piper had–into a bundle. She handed it over and said, “Look for Mynster Heron. I’ll go to the captain.”

  He took the bundle and left. She picked up Piper, who’d been squirming across the floor holding a toy rabbit Banstel had carved her, then gave one last look around. Hardly more than a storage cupboard, it had been her home for months; her haven where at least she’d felt safe. In contrast, what lay ahead was scarily vague; she was about to enter a world of which she knew nothing.

  Piper giggled and waved her rabbit, as if she thought they were heading somewhere better.

  Captain Lustgrader was standing next to the pilot ladder, waiting for her. The roped wooden steps led down to the ship’s dinghy, now bobbing on choppy water at the foot. About half the size of the pinnace, it was manned by two seamen. Her bundle of belongings was stowed under the aft seat, but neither Saker nor Banstel were anywhere to be seen.

  Life with her husband, Rikard Ermine, had taught her the wisdom of masking her emotions and feigning unquestioning obedience, so she schooled her face into impassivity and curtsied. “My thanks, captain, for your forbearance. May Va reward you. Would it be possible for me to bid Factor Heron farewell?”

  His eyes narrowed. What she read in them made her take an involuntary step backwards; there was no mistaking the burning hatred. “I am gratified to be able to inform you that Factor Heron is chained in the brig, and there he will remain until I deal with him. You are lucky not to be there as well.”

  For a moment she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think what to do.

  He’s going to kill Saker. Va help us. Oh, Saker.

  “Have you nothing to say, mistress?”

  “I doubt you’d recognise the truth if you heard it, captain. My presence on your ship was not of my making. The child and I were victims of Va-forsaken sorcery, too.”

  He snorted, disbelieving and indifferent. “Just get off my vessel, you hussy.”

  She gave him stare for stare, but read nothing of compassion in his eyes. She’d never needed courage more, and never felt less brave. “And Factor Heron?” she asked.

  “A dead man, mistress, as good as.” He was jeering at her, reminiscent of Rikard at his nastiest. “On that you have my word, and on board ship, my word is law. As you will find if you don’t remove yourself from my presence. Now.”

  She raised her chin, still locking her gaze on his. “Safe voyage, captain,” she said, her voice grating roughly to her ears. “Go with Va. Temper your anger with mercy, I beg you.”

  He walked away without another word. She turned to look down at the sailboat, wondering how she could manage with Piper in her arms. The wind was catching th
e steps and dancing them against the side of the ship. She turned, searching for Ardhi, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  “Lad, take the babe down.” It was the officer of the watch speaking. He nodded to her and waved a hand at Banstel, who’d just arrived on deck.

  “I’ll bring her to you,” Banstel said, then, as she handed Piper over, he added in a whisper, “The factor’s in the brig.”

  “I know.” She turned away to descend the wooden steps, clinging tightly to the rope handrail, remembering to keep her glamour of skirts even as she was grateful for the sailor’s culottes she wore. As she stepped into the dinghy, she glanced at the seaman holding the ladder to stop it from drifting away from the mother ship. The look he gave her was not reassuring. His name was Fels, and she knew he’d once been disciplined by Mate Tolbun for hitting Banstel too hard and blackening the lad’s eyes so badly he could hardly see out of them for several days.

  Banstel followed her down, and she held out her arms to take Piper from him as soon as she’d seated herself. Fels, leering at her, deliberately rocked the boat so that Banstel stumbled just as he handed the child across. Piper startled and began to cry.

  Fels laughed. “Pity you didn’t drop that one overboard! Reckon there’s a scent of the uncanny about you and your ill-gotten brat.”

  Piper halted her crying and turned to stare at him, her blue eyes wide and stark, as if she could feel his contempt. Sorrel murmured reassurance, touching her lips to Piper’s forehead. Her heart was beating wildly. Saker needed help, and Ardhi was nowhere to be seen.

  The second seaman was already hauling on the halyard to bring the single sail up, and she’d noticed him before too, a ruffian with a twisted scar across his cheek from a recent shipboard knife fight. He also had a penchant for making Banstel the butt of his nastiness.

  Perhaps not only Saker is in trouble here…

  These men were the scum of the crew, and Lustgrader must have been aware of that.

  As Banstel was about to climb up the ladder again, Fels loosened his hold on the steps, and the lad fell back into the boat, cracking his elbow on the gunwale.

  “Get on to that tiller, Banstel, you scut,” Fels growled. “You’re allus telling us you know how to sail, so show us! Head across wind, thataway,” he added, pointing in the direction he meant. “Let’s see some seamanship, or you’ll be on scrubbing duty every day we’re in port.”

  As far as Sorrel could tell, Banstel appeared to know what he was doing, but even so the two men taunted him about his skills as he took hold of the tiller and swung the boat away from Spice Winds. The sail filled and the boat emerged from the protection of the larger ship into a sea now chopped by the wind into white-capped waves.

  The man with the scarred face was soon blocked from Sorrel’s view by the sail. Fels was busy with the sheet, feeding the line through the cleat to keep the sail trimmed. He said, with a grin in her direction, “Your fancy factor’s been taken care of, he has. Not coming to your rescue, pretty henny.”

  She sat straight and met his stare with one of her own as she clutched Piper. “I have no idea what you mean. If you have something to tell me, then say it, otherwise keep your mouth shut. If you want to scare me you’ll have to do better than that.” It was a lie of course; her heart was thudding under her ribs, each beat hammering home her fear. She sat rigidly still, rubbing Piper’s back, thoughts jumbling.

  Ardhi will make sure Saker doesn’t come to any harm. Or the dagger will. And we’ll be all right, Piper. I’ll go to Lord Juster. He’ll help us… You won’t be hungry for a few hours and I’m sure I can buy a goat or two on an island like this. I’ll get milk for you, I promise, and if I can’t, well, you’re almost old enough to make do on solid food.

  She breathed deeply, seeking a calm place within herself. Glancing back over her shoulder at the shoreline, she studied the port, wondering if there was a jetty or a dock. It was hard to see much because there were so many small boats and barges dodging between larger ships and the shore, blocking her view.

  Don’t panic. Think about something else until you are in control of your fear. She’d never expected so many large trading vessels. Pashali, most of them, she guessed. But why did she have to look past Banstel’s shoulder to see the port? Her heart flipped uncomfortably in her chest.

  They were heading the wrong way.

  She tried to convince herself there was a logical reason. Reefs they had to circumvent, perhaps. But no, she’d seen the bumboats take direct routes. So, maybe something to do with the wind. The breeze was stiff, but boats zigzagged, didn’t they? Pickle it, I wish I knew more about sailing.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, furious with herself because her voice wavered.

  Fels pointed. “That island there. That’s where.”

  She looked straight ahead. When they’d sailed past the outer islands on their way towards the port the day before, she’d been up on deck. Uninhabited, they were all little more than inhospitable humps emerging steep-sided from the sea, laden with thick green blankets of rampaging vegetation on top, decorated around the base with the occasional half-moon beach tucked in between the jagged teeth of a rocky shore.

  “Why there?” she asked, fixing Fels with what she hoped was a steely glare. Her heart thumped painfully. “What are your orders?”

  The man grinned at her. “The captain paid us to get rid of you and the babe. He didn’t say how. Reckon he meant get out of sight and then toss you overboard, but me and Voster there, we reckoned we could have a bit o’ fun first.”

  Banstel gasped, and his hand jerked on the tiller. The boat yawed and Fels cursed as he adjusted the sail to compensate. “Watch it, you misbegotten lout!”

  “You’re going to murder me?” Sorrel asked.

  “We’re going to dump you on a beach of that island ahead of us. And just mayhap we’ll enjoy a little playtime with our maypoles first, eh, Voster?”

  “Me nuggins are aching fit to burst.”

  Repulsed, striving to contain her fury, she shouted at them. “Marooned there with a baby and no goat to feed her milk, how long do you think she’ll live? That’s fobbing murder!” But her rage jostled with rampant terror, and she strove to quell the fear. I will not let you do this. Pus and pustules, if you touch Piper, it will be over my dead body!

  Fob it. That’s what they want.

  Fels gave an indifferent shrug. “What does it matter to me? I do as I’m bid. If I don’t, I get whipped, till me back’s raw. And then I might die of the putrid rot. I’d rather get rid of the likes of you.” His tone changed, hardening. “Us tars down there on the lower deck, we reckon you and the brat are no good. Things ain’t been right since you’ve been on board. The captain ain’t been right in the head. Reckon you’re no loss.”

  “Dead right,” Voster said in agreement.

  “Well, blister that for an idea!” she snapped. “Listen, you turn this boat around and sail to that Ardronese vessel in the bay. I know the captain. For my safety he’ll pay you more money in your pocket than you’ve ever seen.”

  Fels said, “Now that’s right tempting, but fiddle me witless, it sounds more like a sea-monkey tale tole by a Pashali trader than the honeyed truth, don’t you reckon Voster? Besides, what use is coin if Cap’n Lustgrader knows? And you reckon he won’t know? The watch has got the spyglass on us, likely! Forget it, woman. There’s no changing aught. Mayhap your luck’ll be good, an’ a passing boat’ll pick you up. Afterwards.” He grinned.

  He turned his attention forward once more, so she glanced at Banstel. He stared back, white-faced. Obviously he hadn’t known the orders and was horrified by them. Besides Ardhi, he was the only other member of the crew she’d ever spoken to on board and he adored Piper, saying she reminded him of a baby sister who’d died of the meazle.

  Neither of them spoke, and he looked away.

  Could she trust him? Banstel was only a lad, and he’d be scared witless of disobeying Lustgrader.

  Once Piper stopped cry
ing, Sorrel wrapped her up and wedged her under the seat with her head peeping out and her hands free. Banstel picked up a stray seagull feather from the bottom of the boat and gave it to her. She gurgled her joy and Sorrel turned her attention to the boat’s pair of oars shipped under the seats.

  Please be still, Piper. Your life may depend on it.

  She sat upright again, to glance at Fels. He was watching the island, adjusting the sail and pointing whenever he wanted Banstel to change direction. He and Voster had to duck under the bottom of the sail whenever the boom swung over.

  Sweet Va, protect us both. I’ve killed before. I can do it again. For a child. For this child, this time.

  Under the protection of the glamour of her non-existent dress, she reached out one foot and used it to edge one of the oars towards her.

  “I can’t let you do this to us,” she said.

  Fels laughed without looking at her. “You think you can stop us?”

  “Of course I can! Come now, think, you foolish malt-heads. I’m a woman who persuaded Captain Lustgrader, against his own wishes, to take me and my babe on board his precious ship–is such a person helpless? I have powers that can persuade. I can make you jump overboard and drown yourself. Can you swim, Seaman Fels? I’ve heard many sailors never learn because they think it better to die quickly if shipwrecked.”

  He glanced back at her. For the first time he looked uncertain and exchanged a doubtful look with Voster.

  Banstel spoke up then, horrified. “I doan want nobody dead! That’s a babe–who wants to kill a babe? Captain Lustgrader wouldn’t do that! He’s a Va-fearing man, he is. On his knees every night come night watch; I seen him, all the time. And the mistress and the factor, they ain’t done naught to hurt nobody!”

  Fels turned on him. “You calling us liars, you bilge-rat? Keep a quiet tongue behind your teeth, lad, or we’ll toss you to the fish.”

  Banstel, thinking the man was about to leap at him, jerked backwards and the boat yawed again before he was able to steady the tiller. The boom swung as the wind spilled out of the sail, and Fels turned to haul in the sheet.