"Whew!" he said. "What a reek!"
"Lady Blysse," Derian replied. "Seasick as a squirrel on a mill wheel. Where were you last night?"
Derian sounded indignant, not scared, and Firekeeper felt a warm surge of admiration for him.
"Storm was bad enough we didn't want to risk being swept over the side," Rarby said, glancing over at Firekeeper's cage as he hung up the lantern. "Didn't figure you'd want a great wash of water down here either."
Another set of boots were on the ladder now, the scent of horse meat and fish stew was stronger. Shelby, carrying the meat in a sack over one shoulder, the stew in a bucket.
Firekeeper listened. Yes. One more set of feet moved above. Rarby called back.
"Harjeedian, got anything in your bag for seasickness? Appears that Lady Blysse didn't take well to last night's storm."
"I have something," came the precisely enunciated words. "Don't give her anything to eat until I look at her."
Derian laughed dryly, a fairly natural sound except to one who knew him as well as did Firekeeper.
"I don't think she'd eat anything anyhow."
Firekeeper paused, reconsidering her plans. If she killed Harjeedian, she would also be killing the one person who might help her. Well, she hadn't planned on killing Harjeedian—one of the first lessons Derian had drilled into her was that she must not kill humans except in times of great need—only disabling him. She must be careful how much force she put behind the iron bar.
Shelby was down now, setting the bucket on the shelf, looking over to Rarby.
"Shall I give this to the wolf?"
Rarby glanced over, noted that Blind Seer was standing away from the front of the cage.
"Sure. He seems to know the drill."
Harjeedian's feet, clad in neat shoes of a design somehow unfamiliar—though perfectly practical—were on the ladder now. Unlike the sailors, he did not trust his feet, but came down facing the ladder, both his hands on the rails, unbalanced slightly by a bag hanging from a loop at his waist.
Firekeeper made herself motionless, even to her breathing. Harjeedian's attention was mostly for his feet, but if he looked through the treads, he might see her. She knew that motion rather than any actual image was what gave away one hidden in shadows, and Harjeedian's eyes would be adjusted to the bright sunlight above, not the dim light shed by the single lantern. Still, best not to take chances.
Rarby had pulled out the wooden bowls. He glanced over at Firekeeper's cage before beginning to ladle out the servings.
"She's awfully quiet over there," he said uneasily. "Could she have died? People sometimes choke."
Derian shook his head.
"I don't think so. I can't believe the wolf would be so calm."
"I'm going to take a look," Rarby said. "Shel, take over dishing out the stew. When Harjeedian is off the ladder, go back up and get the bread."
Harjeedian was three-quarters of the way down the ladder, and stopped at this implied criticism of his speed. He stared into nothing, apparently seeking to compose his expression, and looked directly into Firekeeper's eyes.
He made a small sound of surprise, and Firekeeper lunged. Her free hand snaked through the steps of the ladder, pushing Harjeedian back and off balance. He fell heavily to the floor and she was around the ladder, prepared to hit him with the iron bar.
Derian had two potential targets, for both Shelby and Rarby were close to him.
With an almost wolf-like sense of priorities, he went for Rarby, swinging the heavy weight of the iron chain at the other man's ankles. Rarby went reeling, crashing into the bars of Firekeeper's cage.
Shelby froze for a moment, ladle in hand, then went for Derian. The heavy metal bowl of the utensil glanced off Derian's shoulder, making the redhead stagger and drop the end of the chain.
Off to one side, Firekeeper heard Blind Seer removing the loose bars from his own cage.
"This one!" she howled. "Let no one else down."
The grey wolf howled in reply, and Firekeeper left Harjeedian and leapt at Shelby. Her iron bar caught him across the middle and he bent around the solid length, gasping for air. She jerked the bar free and brought the weight of it across Shelby's upper back. With a yell of pain and surprise, he went down.
Derian had recovered from Shelby's blow and was moving to secure Rarby. Rarby, however, had recovered from his shock and came around, catching Derian a solid fist into the gut. Derian came up from this, head-butting the other man in the hollow between his ribs. They grappled with each other, neither gaining ground, the heavy chain clanking beneath their feet.
Blind Seer had secured Harjeedian by the simple expedient of sitting on him and panting into his face. He didn't need language to make the threat any more clear. The man lay still and when a clatter of boots on the upper deck announced that others had heard the commotions, Harjeedian shouted:
"Don't come near the hatch. We'll handle it."
This hostage taking works both ways, Firekeeper thought grimly, securing Shelby's hands with a scrap of canvas torn from a meat sack. I wonder how they like it?
Rarby had paused when Harjeedian had yelled, and in that moment Derian knocked him cold with a blow that left him shaking his hand and blowing on the fingers. Firekeeper noted that Derian had a loose link from the iron chain in his fist and smiled at her friend's initiative. He must have worked it loose while she removed the bars from Blind Seer's cage.
"We have you," she said to the two who remained conscious. "Shelby, give me shirt."
Shelby's protest faded into silence when Blind Seer growled. His shirt was cotton with a long tail, and covered Firekeeper to the middle of her thighs. She borrowed Shelby's belt so the fabric wouldn't flap about, noting the sheathed knife with satisfaction. She had hated to be unarmed.
"Now we go above and take others. Derian, tie Rarby. I go up with Shelby and show the others we win."
"And Harjeedian?" Derian asked.
"Blind Seer watch for now. Then you tie."
Shelby cursed as she shoved him toward the ladder, but it was empty defiance. Whether Rarby was his brother or some other relation, they had him, and Harjeedian was clearly master of this expedition.
"Tell them," Firekeeper said as they climbed, "to put down all weapons or we kill others."
Shelby did so, adding of his own initiative, "They're right mad and the wolf is loose. Back off, mates."
There were three other sailors there, and they did as they were told. At Firekeeper's command, they tossed the weapons they held into a heap on the deck and stood over near the wheel.
"Make sure boat sail right," she said. "Or else."
Even though she was out of the stifling hold, her head was swimming. It was easier to fight the nausea if she kept her focus close and didn't look about. She longed for Derian to come up and take over the onerous task of communication. Blind Seer first, though. He would make most words unnecessary.
She called down, "Can you come to me, sweet hunter? Has Derian secured the men?"
"I come," the wolf replied. "Give me room."
Had the ladder not been at an angle, Blind Seer might have had some difficulty, but they had used such things before and he had practiced until all but the most acute angles were within his ability.
When his enormous grey head emerged above the deck, the three sailors took an involuntary step back. Firekeeper realized that they might not have seen the wolf conscious—if at all. Only Harjeedian, Rarby, and Shelby had been evident when they were captured.
"Check, sweet hunter," Firekeeper said, allowing her hand to trail through the wolf's thick fur. "See if there are others still hiding and that these have put away all their weapons."
The wolf reported back shortly.
"No others to sight or scent," he said. "Those men still carry knives, but they are sheathed."
Firekeeper looked at the three huddled sailors.
"You have knives. Drop them, too."
They did, and Blind Seer brought her on
e.
"It is not your Fang," he. said, "but it will bite nearly as deep."
Firekeeper stuck the knife into her belt alongside Shelby's, then called down to Derian.
"Bring Harjeedian. His turn to be hostage."
Derian called back. "I've tied Rarby to the bars of your cage. No need for him to get frisky."
Firekeeper agreed. Her real reason for wanting Harjeedian above decks was to see if he could do anything for her nausea, but she didn't want to admit that until Derian was there to manage the other men.
Harjeedian came up, his expression angry, his eyes narrowed. Derian was right behind him, holding a long knife, doubtless taken from Rarby, to the other man's back.
Harjeedian gave a thin-lipped smile when he saw the other sailors subdued.
"I am impressed. I thought the cages would hold you. I admit to underestimating your capacities."
Firekeeper bared her teeth at him. The expression was not a smile, but closer to a snarl. Harjeedian remained calm.
"You have escaped," Harjeedian went on. He made a wide gesture with his arm. "But where will you go?"
Firekeeper followed the gesture, registering for the first time that the only land in sight was a distant shape of green. They were as trapped as they had ever been in the compartment belowdecks. Her head swam with renewed seasickness.
"I see sails," Derian said defiantly. "We will get that ship's attention and be taken to shore."
Harjeedian laughed.
"That ship is coming to meet us," he said. "We could not make a long voyage in this tub, nor could you—even if you had the skill. This boat is leaking in a dozen places already, for it was never intended for rougher waters. You have done well—and I promise not to underestimate you again. Will you surrender, or must the crew of Child of Water subdue you?"
"If I promise to kill you," Firekeeper said, trying to keep her voice steady, "then maybe they think and take us home."
"That only works," Harjeedian said, sounding amused, "if the other party cares if I live or die. Frankly, I do not think the ship's captain would weigh any of our lives very highly if the prize to be won was taking you. I must also warn you that my teachers, who are not on that vessel, but whom you will meet someday, will care very deeply if I am killed."
This flood of words was too much for Firekeeper. She looked blankly at Derian.
Derian hissed out his breath between his teeth.
"Firekeeper, we may have no choice but to surrender."
Derian knew Firekeeper felt betrayed, but he believed Harjeedian. The man was not merely blustering. He spoke with the confidence of one who knew he had the upper hand.
"Can you explain more clearly?" Derian said. "Firekeeper confused is not a safe person. What puzzles me is why you want us. You've gone to a great deal of trouble to keep us alive. Who are you working for? Queen Valora? The pirates?"
"Neither," Harjeedian said. "Though you might say that your actions against both those parties played their role in bringing you here. Nor is this the time for you to know my teachers' wishes."
Firekeeper growled, the sound echoed by Blind Seer's deeper rumble.
Derian felt a bit frantic. He knew the pair could easily take out their captors, but he didn't see how that would do them any good—and it could do a great deal of harm.
"Harjeedian, you can't care so little for your life. I beg you, explain."
Harjeedian seemed to reassess the situation.
"I can tell you this much," he said. "One of whom you made an enemy brought word of Firekeeper and Blind Seer to my teachers."
Derian could tell that, short of torture, he would learn nothing more.
"Firekeeper really was seasick," he said. "If you don't want her wasting away, you're going to need to help her."
Harjeedian considered. "After the transfer. I see no advantage to having her strong and clearheaded now."
Derian could see his point.
"What next?" he said.
"You surrender and the transfer takes place as planned," Harjeedian replied, "or you kill us and deal with this ship sinking and the oncoming vessel. That is all."
Derian looked at Firekeeper.
"Your call," he said.
Firekeeper looked at Harjeedian.
"First to hurt us dies. I have enough hostages."
Harjeedian met her gaze.
"I can see how you might. Very well. I understand. Men, I warn you, no getting back a bit of your own. I won't answer for the consequences."
Derian shivered, trying to believe it was caused by the sudden wind that had whipped up, but knowing that the real source was the chilly glint in Firekeeper's dark eyes.
Even Firekeeper could tell that considerable preparation had been done with the specific intent of moving Blind Seer from the riverboat to the larger ocean vessel. There was a cage, big enough to hold the wolf, small enough to keep him from sliding around and possibly doing himself injury. It was strongly built, but light enough that it could be hauled up through a complicated web of ropes.
What she hadn't expected was that the same cage would be used to move her. Harjeedian and Derian had been taken aboard via a strange chair-like contraption, but when it came time for her to go aboard it was the cage, not the chair, that was lowered.
"Get inside," Rarby ordered. Obviously, the ease with which he and Shelby had been overcome still stung, but equally obviously, he had been told not to lay a hand on her unless she refused to cooperate.
"Why this?" Firekeeper asked, gesturing toward the cage with a toss of her head. "Why not chair?"
Rarby shook his head.
"Don't know. Don't care. What I do know is that's what they've sent. Now, are you going to get in it, or am I going to have to beat the crap out of you first?"
He looked as if he'd welcome the opportunity, and it pleased Firekeeper to deny him. She crept into the cage, musing over what they had won in their effort to escape. There had been three victories as she saw them.
The first was confirmation that all three of them were wanted, alive and in at least fair condition. She had suspected this, but hadn't known for certain. However, the fact that Harjeedian had not harmed Derian to punish Firekeeper made her fairly sure that Derian had not been kidnapped merely as a hostage against her good behavior.
The second victory was that she thought she had convinced Harjeedian that merely threatening either Blind Seer or Derian would not be enough to keep her in line. Deep inside, she wasn't sure if this was true, but she thought that Harjeedian would be more careful. Whether this care would take the form of courtesy or more intensive imprisonment she couldn't be certain. However, she felt she had regained some status, and wolflike, she felt this was important.
The third victory was both the smallest and the largest. Only one of the two knives she had acquired in the scuffle had been taken from her. Shelby had demanded the return of his knife, but the blade Blind Seer had given her had not been noticed. At first opportunity, Firekeeper had slipped it inside the loose folds of the shirt she now wore. When Harjeedian had insisted she don trousers and a heavier shirt over the first as protection against the sharp spring winds, she had readily agreed.
Now the knife nestled between the baggy folds of the outer and inner shirts, hopefully undetectable. Firekeeper thought that Derian might also be armed. He had returned Rarby's knife, but the butter knife, jagged-edged from working the chain, and the solid link of chain he had hidden in his fist had not been taken from him.
Of course, these victories would be lost if they were stripped and searched, but for now Firekeeper felt more secure. Her fangs were not drawn, only hidden.
Privately, she mourned the loss of her own Fang, the garnet-hilted knife that had been given to her by the first One Male of her memory, a knife that had belonged to Prince Barden, leader of the settlers who had crossed the Iron Mountains in the hope of building a life for themselves. Her human parents had been among those settlers—some said her father had been Prince Barden himself�
�and Firekeeper treasured the knife both as a valuable tool, and as a tie to that forgotten time in her life.
However, as she allowed herself to be secured in the transport cage, she was glad for any knife at all.
Once Rarby had closed the door and snapped home the lock, he gave a shrill whistle, waving his arm broadly over his head. Almost immediately, Firekeeper felt the cage jerk and rise swaying over the deck. It rose regularly after that, the stops—presumably so those hauling the rope could adjust their grips—coming smoothly. Nonetheless, her traitor stomach wanted to rebel and she fought hard to keep from vomiting. She had no desire to arrive at the next stage in this unplanned-for journey bent over and spewing.
She managed, though only just barely, and from the look Derian gave her when the cage was lowered onto the deck she suspected she didn't look very healthy. Blind Seer licked her face through the bars.
"Be ill if you must, dear heart," he said. "There's been talk enough of your ailment. That's the reason they brought you up in this fashion. They feared otherwise you might fall"
Derian opened the door of the transport cage for her; Firekeeper saw that all three of them were within a larger cage. It was not so solid that she didn't think she couldn't break out of it, given time, but even as she crawled out of the littler cage she saw a roof being lowered and lashed into place.
No, the cage would not stop her or Blind Seer, but it would slow them. If they were guarded, that would be enough.
Derian helped her stand, putting a supportive arm around her—a gesture she was grateful for, even as she found the need galling.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Maybe better now," she replied cautiously testing her footing. "This boat not move so much, I think."
Firekeeper glanced around, taking in the tall tree trunks that, shorn of their bark, held webs of rope and wide canvas sails. There were three such trees, as far as she could tell, and she thought that this made for a very big boat indeed. It had stood as high over the riverboat as the castle at Eagle's Nest stood over the city below. As so often when confronted with human achievements, the wolf-woman was reluctantly impressed.
Wolf Captured Page 5