Lies of Descent

by Troy Carrol Bucher

  The five of them, when he added himself, Loral, and Vashi to the twins, had formed a loose friendship. At night they slept under tarps that were stretched overhead to keep the rain off. Marcus and Tannon had argued about who slept where the first night out of Hath. Tannon had forgotten about the larger twin when he insulted Marcus, calling him a “stupid, little, village bastard.” Tannon never saw the fist that knocked him to the deck, but he was lucky. Before Karyl could do more, Dunval and Sabat tackled him. That’s when Vashi joined in to even things up. The last two members of Tannon’s group, Jerald and Ania quickly followed.

  Riam hadn’t meant to get involved. After his conversation with Master Iwynd, he’d wanted to keep apart from the other children—well, all of them except for Loral—but the sight of her leaping wildly onto Ania and pulling her long black hair like it was the bridle for steering a horse changed his mind. Unwilling to be outdone by her, Riam had added himself to the chaos of children wrestling on the deck. The boatmen broke up the fight before any of them were injured, although several had bloody noses and a few wore black eyes like medals. The battle was over, but the war was not. Captain Karlet finally separated the two groups after the third fight—once there’d been nothing left for them to scrub.

  The children now did everything exclusively in two groups—Riam’s and Tannon’s. How the outcasts had become his group Riam didn’t know. He suspected it had to do with Loral telling everyone some of what had happened during the attack on the outpost—most everything besides the sword and the explosion—or because carrying a sealed case that he never let out of his sight somehow made him look important. Whatever their reasons, the outcasts went with whatever he decided, even Loral, unless she was angry.

  He liked his new friends, especially Karyl and Loral. For Riam, who hadn’t grown up around other children his age, the big quiet twin made a good companion when separated from his brother Marcus. Both Marcus and Vashi reminded him too much of Nola with their constant chatter.

  Riam usually spent the long, boring mornings talking to Loral. She had a quiet seriousness that the others lacked, and he guessed she came from a home that wasn’t a normal family—similar to him. That was something he’d picked up on, that his grandfather, besides being a criminal, hadn’t been normal. Riam hadn’t told anyone about him, but he’d listened to enough of the others’ stories to figure it out.

  “Come on,” Marcus said, tugging on Riam’s arm. Vashi stood behind him. “We’re going to go to the front scantling and make faces at Tannon.” Marcus and Vashi’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

  “You’ll start another fight, and we’ll all end up scrubbing again,” Riam said.

  “As long as we all have to do it, I don’t mind,” Marcus said. “I never could stay out of trouble on my dad’s boat, so it doesn’t bother me. I grew up spending my free time scrubbing and sanding.”

  Karyl nodded in affirmation.

  “Beats sittin’ and bakin’ in the sun,” Vashi added.

  Riam stood to go with them but then saw Loral staring and sat back down. He didn’t want to look childish in front of her. “You go. I’m . . . I’m not feeling up to it.”

  “Thinking about your brother back home again?” Marcus asked.

  Karyl hit his brother on the arm.

  “Wha . . . oh. Sorry, Riam. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

  “It’s fine. You go ahead. Don’t throw the first punch if it comes to that. The captains will be harsher with whichever side lays the first blow.”

  Having gained Riam’s approval, Marcus and Vashi scurried off down the beam. Karyl gave Riam a helpless look that said, “Sorry.”

  “I know. Try and keep them from getting us all into trouble,” Riam told Karyl. The big twin shrugged and hurried off after the first three.

  Riam didn’t have to sit alone for long. Loral made her way back to the beam where he sat.

  “Mind if I sit with you?” she asked, standing above him. The sun highlighted her dark red hair. Her soft green eyes were as serious as ever, but her mouth was no longer pressed into a thin line.

  Riam’s heart sped up. He tried to answer her, but he couldn’t get his throat to make the right sounds. His answer turned into an embarrassing screech.

  Loral smiled at his awkwardness, making it impossible for him to recover his voice. All he could do was slide over.

  * * *

  —

  Captain Karlet’s mood went from tense to foul over the next few days. They were behind schedule, and the barge’s hired captain, a short man named Stovall who walked with a limp and whose right eye never opened as far as his left, couldn’t do anything to gain Captain Karlet’s approval. It was morning, and the cool water created a rising mist in the fast-warming air that made things damp and uncomfortable. By the conversations of the boatmen, they were five days out from their destination, the city of Parthusal.

  Riam and the other outcasts sat on their usual scantling midship, eating smoked fish and biscuits while the crew untangled a mess of chain and rope along the narrow deck that ran half the perimeter of the barge. Above them, the morning sun hid behind boiling clouds that promised rain.

  “The captain woke with a viper in his trousers today,” one of crewman said. “Wasn’t anyone’s fault the anchor got fouled. Just bad luck.”

  “Captain Karlet don’t believe in luck.”

  “Captain Stovall’s worried that Karlet will toss the lot of us off the boat when we make it to Parthusal and hire a new crew if we’re late.”

  “Forget bein’ late. I need the bonus we get for being early. I’ve got debts to pay. I’ll not end up like my brother, rowing a boat till it kills me.”

  “Relax, Raulf. We’ll make it up. We’re always behind till we come to the buoys that mark the deeper channel. Once we’re there, we can run both day and night to make up the time. Even if we’re late, it’ll only be the second time.”

  “That’s if we don’t run aground on a sandbar. We’ve made bad time ever since Dathen came aboard, both on our last run and this one. Lots of bad luck since he signed on.” The anchor chain made a clunk as Raulf threw the section he held to the deck and made the sign of the Fallen in the air. “It’s not normal, catchin’ a rope from a sunk boat when we dropped anchor. What are the odds on a river this size? I tell ya, we need old Pallan and his brother back on the sweeps. Never had these problems when they was here.”

  “It’s not the new man’s fault. Strange things happen on the river all the time. It goes in cycles. Why, once, when I was young, we were snared on a bone half as long as this barge. Never seen anything in the river big enough to have a bone that big. Even the great gnurls of the deep don’t get big enough to have bones that size. Kept me afraid of the water for months.”

  “You’re full of screet shit, Tem. Ain’t nothin’ on the river that big. Probably old, bleached ironwood.”

  “Calling me a liar? It was bone. I know bone from ironwood.” Tem stood up straighter, arching his back to push his chest out, and his mustache flared out like the hair on the back of an angry marcat.

  The man’s posture reminded Riam of Tannon before the last fight. Do people change so little when they grow older?

  “Calm down. No one’s calling you a liar. We’re only talking ’bout our luck,” Raulf said.

  Tem’s chest deflated some, but his back remained stiff. “It’s not Dathen’s fault,” he mumbled.

  “Well, someone’s draggin’ Faen’s luck along with them, whether it’s him or one of those Fallen-cursed children.”

  “It’s not our fault,” Vashi said from behind Riam. “We weren’t on board for the last run, so it can’t be us.”

  “Hmmf. Come help untangle this chain instead of sitting useless.”

  Riam and the other outcasts gave Vashi dark looks.

  “It’s not my fault,” Vashi said as they moved to help.

  Li
ghtning cracked, burning the sky for an instant.

  “See. It is your fault. Everyone knows lightning strikes right after you speak false,” Marcus told Vashi.

  “That’s a tale made up by old fishermen.” Thunder rumbled around Vashi’s words, and as if Sollus was trying to prove him wrong, a second flash of lightning flared across the sky.

  “Like I said, Sollus always speaks out against an untruth.” Marcus made the sign of the Fallen.

  Riam didn’t believe that Sollus had anything to do with the lightning. Sollus never made lightning strike when his grandfather lied about his mother, or when anyone else lied to him for that matter, and those were big lies. If Sollus really cared about something like lying, then surely he would have riddled the sky with lightning wherever his grandfather went. Maybe before the gods fell, when there were hundreds of them watching from across the heavens, they might have cared about such small things, but not now when only one remained. Riam doubted the last God of Light had time for anything so small.

  * * *

  —

  It began to rain before they finished with the anchor chain, and it continued all day, stopping just long enough for the air to become hot and damp again before drenching them all in a fresh downpour. When evening came, two canopies were erected to shelter them while they slept, one on each side of the crew cabin. As usual, the children split into two groups—Tannon’s on one side and Riam’s on the other—but unlike the previous nights, the barge wasn’t stopped and anchored. True to the crewman’s word, once they reached a point on the river where a large red buoy floated on the water, Captain Stovall announced that the crew would split into two watches and would no longer stop at night.

  Riam slept fitfully. There was too much thunder, and the rain on the canvas above them was nearly as loud. Vashi shook him from his half-sleep, and Riam sat up, rubbing his eyes. A fine mist of water sprayed his face from the rain.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  Vashi put his finger to his lips. “Shhh. Come with me,” he said, not providing any explanation.

  Puzzled, and not at all happy about getting soaked again, Riam shrugged off the damp blanket and followed Vashi. Whatever the boy was up to, Riam was sure it would end with trouble. There were few things Vashi did that didn’t end without someone running afoul of the crew.

  Vashi led him out into the rain. The only boatmen in sight were the ones manning the sweeps and the pilot up front with the lamp who shouted occasional commands back to them. One of the men watched Riam and Vashi for a moment, but judging from the man’s posture, he didn’t care what they did.

  “Stay here and keep watch for me,” Vashi said.

  Riam nodded. He wasn’t exactly sure what to watch for, but Vashi left him standing in the rain without explanation and moved to a ladder on the side of the crew cabin.

  The rain grew stronger while Riam waited, turning into large, cold drops. Riam wished he’d hurry.

  Vashi appeared at the top of the ladder. He moved slowly, his wet and matted blond hair hanging down into his eyes. He stretched toward the corner of the building and fumbled with something.

  What is Vashi doing? At any moment one of the crew would see him.

  Whether Vashi was sneakier than Riam realized or lucky, he finished whatever he was doing and began creeping back down the ladder without anyone noticing.

  “What are you doing?” The voice behind Riam made him jump. Vashi had been spotted.

  “I said, ‘What are you doing?’”

  The voice was speaking to him, not Vashi. Riam turned around to see Tem, the mustached crewman who’d been working on the anchor chain, squinting at him.

  “Sir, I was going . . . going to go pee.” After the scare, he really did have to go. The man gave him a sharp look. Riam slipped past him and moved to the side of the boat.

  “Me, too, sir.” Vashi came sliding up beside Riam.

  “Floggin’ children,” the man mumbled. “Stand out in the rain in the middle of the night woolgathering. Hurry up and get back with the others.” Tem moved off toward the front of the barge.

  “What were you doing?” Riam asked, keeping his voice low.

  Vashi had a wide, stupid grin on his face below his fading black eye. “I loosened the ropes on the canvas above Tannon so that it sags and catches the rain. The weight of the water should pull the ropes free when it fills up.”

  Riam closed his eyes. He wanted to be mad at Vashi for the prank, but the thought of Tannon and his friends getting soaked made him giggle. Soon both boys were trying to keep from laughing in fits and starts. They were still giggling when they went back to where the others slept. Their noise woke Loral and Marcus.

  “What’s going on?” Marcus asked. “Are we in Parthusal?”

  “Shhh!” Riam said, trying to keep him from waking everyone. “Vashi loosened the ropes of the canvas over Tannon’s group so that the rain will collapse it on their heads.”

  Vashi giggled again. Marcus began to giggle as well.

  Loral looked at each of them in turn. “You’re all childish,” she said.

  The three boys looked at each other and burst out laughing. Loral gave them a disgusted look and lay back down.

  “Quiet down over there!” the man at the port sweep said in a firm but hushed tone.

  “Let’s wake Karyl and tell him,” Marcus whispered. The other two nodded and Loral groaned.

  They woke Karyl and explained what Vashi had done. This prompted another round of fits.

  “Wish I could see Tannon and the others get soaked,” Marcus said.

  “Me, too,” Vashi added.

  They waited in silence, listening to the rain for some time before one of them spoke again.

  “Think we’ll end up training together, once we get to the island?” Karyl said.

  They hadn’t spoken much about what lay ahead, not out of a desire to keep it to themselves, but because none of them knew much.

  Marcus wiggled at his front tooth. “I doubt it. There’ll be a lot more of us, and we’ll be separated into different regiments.”

  “Too bad,” said Vashi.

  “It’ll be a while before we join any of the regiments. At least we have until then.”

  “Yeah, but how long will that last?”

  “Too long, with all of you,” Loral said.

  “Quiet down! Last warning I’m gonna give you,” the crewman on the swoop said.

  His words were useless, though, for suddenly there were shouts from the other side of the cabin. Riam and the others began laughing.

  “What’s going on over there!” the crewman yelled.

  The commotion increased and several of the crew appeared, looking for the emergency. Riam heard Captain Stovall’s voice. “Pipe down! What’s going on?” Tannon and the others quieted. “What’s all the shouting about?” the captain’s voice bellowed. Riam couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation over the rain.

  After a time, Captain Stovall came into view. He stopped, surveying Riam and the rest of the outcasts.

  “What happened?” Vashi asked, giving his best puzzled-but-curious expression. Riam looked down to keep from laughing.

  “Fallen strange. Rope on their canvas came untied. Actually, two of them.” He eyed Riam and the others. “A little unusual, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Yes, sir,” Vashi said.

  “None of you been messing around with the ropes, have you?”

  “No, sir,” they answered together.

  The captain stared at Vashi a moment longer. “Pain-in-the-ass children,” he muttered as he turned and left.

  Once the captain was safely out of earshot, Riam let out a sigh of relief. Tem stepped out of the shadows. “Captain would’ve strapped your hides for that. Now get to sleep or I’ll do it myself.”

  Riam and the others lay down quickly and p
ulled their blankets up around them. None of them spoke again, but occasionally one of them would giggle and start the others going. As the night grew cooler, Loral moved closer and closer to Riam until they were pressed next to each other for warmth. Her hand somehow found its way into his, and it became impossible to sleep. All he could think about was her hand and how soft it was, but he didn’t pull away. He lay motionless in the moonlight, breathing hard and sweating, Loral on one side and the sealed case with the sword on the other. He was nervous and scared, but for once, things seemed to be going well. Riam placed his free hand on the leather case.

  Chapter 20

  The sharp pain of a knee pressing down on his chest woke Riam from sleep. He tried to call out into the darkness, but a hand clamped over his mouth. He struggled, but found his wrists pinned to the deck. Someone else had a handful of his hair.

  Tannon’s face slid into view. “Shhhh . . .” he said, his teeth white against the night. He smiled in the same malicious way he had back in the mess hall—the same way Riam imagined a wolf would smile, right before it locked its jaws around another animal’s throat. Tannon’s matted hair gave him a crazed look that matched his smile, and the whites of his eyes stood out brighter than his teeth.

  Tannon leaned in close, until Riam felt the other boy’s breath against his ear. “It’s time we talked, crofter boy.” He said the last words as if there were bitters in his mouth.