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The Finger of God: a Thalassia novel

Page 8

by Patrick McClafferty


  “That sounds a bit harsh.” Hedric murmured, uncomfortably. “I thought that god was loving.”

  “The one god IS loving, in his stern unbending way, and then ONLY to HIS followers.” Gralt climbed a bit higher.

  “You keep saying the one god. Doesn’t he have a name, like Ralph or Sam?” The backhand came out of nowhere, and Hedric saw stars as he bounced off the hard wooden deck, coming to rest against the mainmast.

  “Thou shalt not question the word of god!” Gralt’s voice was deadly. The big man took a deep breath as Hedric dragged himself to his feet. “I was a lad full of questions too, when I was your age.” A callused rough hand patted Hedric’s shoulder, and the boy winced. Gralt never even noticed. “My father, bless him, showed me the true path to god.” A look of beatific joy crossed the weathered man’s face. “When my bones finally mended, I’d seen the light.” Turning to Hedric, he included the boy into his slightly mad ecstatic vision. “You’re a good lad, and we need you in the engine room, or I’d show you the true path, like my father showed me.”

  “Ah, yeah.” Hedric backed away, slowly. “I have to go, Mister Gralt. My duties, you know.”

  “You’re a good lad. Yes, go to your duties, by all means. We’ll talk another time.”

  Hedric thought to himself, as turned and tried very hard not to run away.

  “That was pretty dumb.” Lexi chuckled dryly when he told her of the conversation with Gralt earlier that day. The overcast had finally cleared and the Fleece motored over smooth still waters. Jasmine filled the air and overhead a full Elysium chased a slivered Medin across an inky star-filled sky. “Gralt has knocked us all down, at one time or another, talking about religion. Except the Captain, that is. She’d have him swimming for his life in a flash if he ever raised a hand to her.”

  “Sounds like Captain Isenhart has quite a temper.”

  “You might say.” The girl was gazing out at the dark shore. “Dad was the only one who could handle his wife.” It was a simple statement, but Hedric heard Lexi gasp when she realized what she’d said. “Hedric.” She whispered suddenly. “I was a fool to tell you that. Please, PLEASE don’t tell anyone else. Oh god, the Captain is going to kill me.”

  “Not if I can help it.” Hedric grinned and took Lexi’s hand. “I just won’t tell her that I know. We all have our secrets. You know mine, now I know one of yours.” He studied her face in the soft blue moonlight. “What happened, Lexi?”

  “Oh damn.” She looked down at the deck, and the boy saw a drop of water hit there, and then another. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Dad and Mom ran the boat for years. Mom as captain and Dad as first mate. A few years ago, he died of the coughing flux. Mom misses him very much, and she changed her name back to Isenhart. I kept my dad’s name; Smith. Most of the crew is new, and doesn’t know. The others like their jobs too much.”

  “Now I see why she was so grateful when I saved your life. It makes sense.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll keep your secret, Lexi.”

  “Thank you.”

  They stood that way, hand in hand, watching the land slide quietly by until both moons had set and full darkness descended on the river.

  Chapter 5

  Weeks later they saw the glow of New Boston in the night sky days before they slipped into their mooring. Each night the glow grew brighter, and Hedric became more excited. He was the only one who hadn’t been there before and, if he’d figured things right, it was his fourteenth birthday.

  Traffic began to increase two days out, and they saw the first fishing boats since Landau. The fishermen stared at them openmouthed. Hedric wasn’t sure if it was their battle damage or the pirate flag they had strung upside down on the stern rail.

  A delegation stood waiting at the stone quay; a tall, painfully thin man in somber clothes stepped forward and removed an odd, stovepipe black hat. “Welcome to the port of New Boston, capital and gleaming jewel of all Pangea. I am Chancellor Twitchel.” He bowed unsmiling, and Hedric considered that he and Zebediah Gralt could have been cut from the same hard unbending mold. Surrounding him were several severe men in dark blue uniforms, carrying long impressive pikes. “You have been summoned by the Governor.” Three black carriages waited at the edge of the cobblestone quay.

  Hedric still couldn’t believe that he was a part of the official delegation to the City of New Boston. The Captain had to represent the Golden Fleece, it was obvious, as did the doctor, the cargomaster, and the first mate. The Captain had carefully explained that he and Lexi were to act as her servants. It was expected. Hedric had to bite his tongue to keep himself from telling her just what he thought of masquerading as a SERVANT! After a few sharp comments from Dawn, however, he saw the sense in it. If he felt uncomfortable dressed in the fine clothes the Captain had somehow procured, Lexi must have felt simply miserable. She, acting as the Captain’s maid had to wear a dress. The one and only time Hedric told her that she looked nice in a dress, earned him a swift punch to the arm.

  After a bone-jarring ride up the long and torturous cobblestone street, they arrived at the governor’s residence. Built above the harbor, it was a palatial mansion resting on a rounded and wooded knoll known as Beacon Hill. Set back from the rough cobblestone road, the mansion itself looked like it had been built from the ruins of an ancient and Earthly Boston. The gray granite blocks were interspersed with gleaming white marble columns gracing the front entrance that would have looked more appropriate adorning the front of a church. It was a total and erratic collage of building styles, all copied, none original. It made Hedric’s head swim, and he wasn’t the only one to stare dumbfounded. Footmen in funereal black uniforms held their carriage doors open.

  “If you would be so kind as to come this way.” Their escort into the palace was dressed in an eye-searing emerald tunic, and as much as he stared, Hedric couldn’t decide if the perfumed and lacquered person that simpered in a high falsetto voice was a man or a woman. He stepped out of the carriage, turned, and offered the Captain his arm. Her eyebrow rose fractionally, and she gave him a wink. If nothing else, the boy thought in wry amusement, he knew how to act in official environments.

  The thick oak doors swung open on well-oiled hinges and the party of six, Chancellor Twitchel had already disappeared into the massive palace, was met in a wash of light by a skeletally thin doorman who dropped his long nose down at the new arrivals. He could have been Chancellor Twitchel’s twin. The doorman stared at Hedric, and Hedric stared at the doorman. Finally the boy, more than used to the little superiority games he had played as a child, relented.

  “This is your cue, neighbor.” Hedric’s voice was toneless. “You’re supposed to say, ‘Good evening, how may I help you?’ and I’m supposed to say, ‘This is Captain Dolores Isenhart of the Free Trader Golden Fleece and party, here at the invitation of the governor.’ and then you’re supposed to let us in. Have you got all that?”

  The skeleton’s voice was ice. “Yes, sir. Follow me.”

  “Thank you so much.” He offered his arm to the Captain, and the other to Lexi, who hesitated only a second before she took it. “May we have your name, good sir, so that we may know who to mention when we laud our visit?”

  The voice said over his shoulder. “I am Percy Elliot Chesterfield.” Hedric sighed and Lexi jumped right into the conversation as they walked down the long, candlelit hall. Here the tapestries were of fox and hounds rather than jousting.

  “Of course you are, my dear man. Percy Elliot Chesterfield—amazing! What an absolutely flatulent name and such an impotent position. Why, think of all those important people you must meet every day. Do you actually speak to any of them? Why, just think of it…” On his arm Captain Isenhart was making gasping noises as the grim-faced doorman pulled open the gilded door to the vast banquet hall. Hedric frowned and touched the door with a finger as they entered.

  Dawn commented dryly.

  “The Isenhart party.” He announced in a dour voice, th
en turned and left without another word.

  The cavernous room was sumptuous and ornately decorated in red and gold velvet. Gold seemed to be the main theme. There was a golden candelabra, golden place settings, golden serving dishes and even the servants had gold buttons on their uniforms. The governor must have had a side business manufacturing cheap yellow paint, Hedric thought sourly.

  A short heavy set man, perspiring profusely and red in the face pushed his way around the banquet room. He was dressed to match the decor, in red and gold velvet breeches and doublet, with heavy gold trim dragging at the edge of the fabric. He had so many golden rings on his thick pudgy fingers Hedric wondered how he could lift his arms.

  Dawn sounded outraged. She muttered a curse, and Hedric blinked in surprise.

  “Oh dear, oh dear.” Puff, puff. The man stopped before the Captain, panting. “I am George Greely, the governor of New Boston.” He held out a sweaty hand, which the Captain shook with obvious reluctance. “You must be Dolores. Chancellor Twichel has told me all about you; how you defeated those dreadful pirates. Simply amazing. You must tell me all about it, but first introduce me to your traveling companions.” His pink tongue was licking his fat lips, as if Captain Isenhart were introducing a new course at dinner. The air in the room was thick, and held the faint stink of sweat.

  “Certainly, Governor.” She gave the fat man a blinding smile. Hedric was insulted at first that the Captain hadn’t introduced either him or Lexi, and then he figured it out, this time without Dawn’s help. By not introducing them, Isenhart had drawn attention away from them, leaving her two young “servants” free to mingle and gather intelligence. THEY were the Captain’s spies.

 

 

  Captain Isenhart glanced at the two young people standing beside her and nonchalantly bent to Hedric. “Why don’t the two of you just mingle for a bit? I’ll stay with the rest of the group and the governor.” She rolled her eyes in resignation. The Captain, he suddenly realized, was no piker herself when it came to covert activities.

  “As you wish, Captain.” He gave the woman a short bow, and was rewarded with another wink. It was a casual gesture, taking Lexi’s hand to lead her to refreshment, but in that touch they became spies. The girl’s eyes widened and she spun to stare at Hedric. Then she smiled, her eyes very bright.

  “You go to the left, I’ll go right. I’ll meet you in an hour.” She glanced around the room. “Out on that terrace.”

  “As you wish.” He gave her a short bow, and the smiling Lexi returned a fluid curtsey that the Captain had been drumming into her.

  With a glass of pinkish, sickly sweet punch in his hand, Hedric mingled, and he listened. The talk was loud and raucous, with the music in the current discordant style sounding like two cats fighting. The more he heard, the more nervous he became. Finally, after a long hour, he set the still full glass down and made his way, slowly, to the shadowed terrace.

  “I thought you’d never get here.” The girl stepped out of the shadows, relief clearly in her voice.

  “You’re early.”

  “Sorry.” She really didn’t sound it. “I couldn’t stand it anymore.” She took his hand and he felt her tremble. “These people are scared, Hedric. Their laughter is too loud and forced, their eyes too bright, and they all drink like fish—like they don’t expect to live through tomorrow.”

  “I noticed that too. Boat captains are preparing to sail—anywhere away from here. I think…”

  A tall hard faced man in a midnight blue uniform stepped out onto the terrace, looked around briefly, and headed directly for them.

  Hedric couldn’t tell if the thought came from him, Dawn, Lexi or Moran; they were all so inextricably entwined when they touched. He could feel her fingers squeezing his with a surprising intensity.

  “You two.” There was no simpering in THIS man’s tone. “Come with me—now.”

  “But our captain will…” Hedric began, and was curtly interrupted.

  “Your captain will be informed. Come with me, now, or you will be forced to come.”

  “We’ll come, Captain. You don’t need to use force.” Lexi’s act was near perfect, and her little-girl smile radiant. If she hadn’t been crushing his hand with her fingers he might have even believed her.

  “I’m a lieutenant, miss. This way.” Heads turned as he led the way through the crowded banquet room. On another floor, and toward the back of the building he opened the door to a pleasant office, set with a large heavy table and chairs. Maps were pinned to the wall, and lamps cast a warm yellow glow on the walls and ceiling. A wide shouldered, gray haired man already seated glanced up with haunted eyes.

  “Sit down, you two.” The deep voice was commanding, and the two young people didn’t hesitate. “Good. I am Colonel Benjamin Harrison, of the National Guard. We’ve had people watching you. You’ve been busy, I think.”

  “We were just mingling.” Hedric tried the smile, but it didn’t work.

  “You were listening. You spoke to no one, either of you.” His gaze impaled them. “Tell me about Treebeard.”

  The boy thought about spinning a fanciful tale, and then he discarded the idea. There was something about this man, an intensity. “Treebeard is dead.” Lexi grabbed his hand, and he felt her warmth. “We sent a scouting party into the city. There wasn’t a sign of life; not a person, dog, cat or bird. A crowd chased us back to the boat, and it was horrible. They were all dead but they walked, shuffled really. We managed to push off before they reached us. They kept coming, and coming, until they all fell off the pier and into the harbor and drowned.” Hedric felt himself trembling now. “We heard a rumor that it was a plague from which there was no survival.”

  The colonel swung his gaze from pale face to pale face. “Did you see how the plague was spread?” His voice was quiet, but the intensity almost pushed Hedric back in his seat. “The people all had sores all over them. Great blistering pustules. Every once in a while one would pop and spew gunk all over the people around it; maybe ten or fifteen feet. They never got closer to us than forty feet, so we were safe.”

  Colonel Harrison had closed his eyes, covering his face with his hands. “I feared as much.” Harrison stood, picked up a small pin from the table and strodeto the wall map, where he took out the green pin that had marked Treebeard, and replaced it with a red one. Half of the pins on the map were red. “At the rate the plague is spreading.” The deep voice held a tone of despair. “It will reach New Boston in twelve months. Every man woman and child on Pangea will be dead in two years. Did you know that the plague can also spread to animals?” Hedric went to shake his head no, and paused, thinking of the behavior of the cats in Treebeard. “I thought you might.”

  “What will you do now, Colonel?” Lexi’s voice was small and scared.

  “Why, I will die, young lady, as best as I can, defending my people. Should I become infected I will fall on my sword, before I infect more of my own men.”

  “Is there no hope?”

  The tired man in midnight blue laughed bitterly. “Certainly. If god himself comes down to help us. I’ve heard that anything is possible—in his name.” Hedric’s eyes were very wide. “Or her name.” He whispered. Lexi gave him a startled look. “There is a chance, Colonel. The barest, thinnest thread of a chance that I might be able to do something.”

  The old soldier raised his head and gave a scoffing laugh. “Oh? You? How pray tell?”

  He was still chortling when Hedric opened his mouth. “Have you ever heard of the Goddess Selene or the Goddess Rhiannon?”

  “Fairy tales, told to little girls to make them sleep. Nothing more.”

  Hedric’s green eyes met the colonel’s. “I’ve met them and they are as rea
l as you or I, Colonel.”

  “Oh, very good.” His voice reeked with sarcasm. “Take them back to the banquet hall, lieutenant. Let them drink some more of the spiced punch.”

  The hard-faced lieutenant cleared his throat. “I don’t think they had any, sir.”

  “Get them out of here!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As they were walking out of the door, the colonel called out. “Do you really think that there is a chance?”

  Hedric turned back. “A small one, Colonel. Very small.”

  “Then take this.” He fumbled with his hand, and tossed something golden to Hedric. It was a heavy signet ring, set with a gleaming red stone. “It belonged to my father, and his father, and his, back to ancient Earth. It will open doors for you, and bring you aid from local garrisons if you need it. There are no temples to Selene in New Boston, thanks to the one god religion. The smaller villages up north, toward Dimsdale would have them, I’m sure. It’s the best I can do.”

  Hedric looked at the ring in wonder. Gold! It was worth a fortune. Actually, it wasn’t worth anything, if they all died. “Thank you, Colonel.” He said slowly. “If I am successful, I will see it returned to you.”

  The gray haired man at the table gave him a long look. “You are a remarkable young man.”

  Later in Captain Isenhart’s cabin, Hedric set the golden ring on the table as he reported their findings. “And that’s about it. We were escorted back to the banquet room, we met you and the rest from the ship, we had dinner and we left.”

  “Hmmm.” The Captain picked up the ring and examined it carefully. “You could buy your own ship with this, Hedric. Sail away from this blighted country and never return.”

 

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