by Samit Basu
I did not stay to say goodby; it woud have been dificlt to bear. I do not think we shall meet again; in fact, I hope we do not, for the path I have takn will leed me to doom and dangr. I hope you, too, will find a path worthy of you, and I hope, in my next life, to meet you and love you again. It is too late for me to enjoy the delits of this world, but I will do what I can to presrve them for your sake. Farewll.
In life, in deth, my once and futur love,
Yours,
Asvin/Pralay
* * *
Love was in the air. Amoebae extended quivering pseudopodia at each other, spiders spun intricate webs, peacocks danced, love-birds sang, flowers produced prodigious amounts of pollen and all nature was aglow. The sun shone jovially on Vrihataranya, smiling benevolently at everything except Spikes, who stood in waist-deep water in the middle of a stream, hunting fish that were swimming upstream to mate. This did not involve anything as primitive and undignified as moving his limbs in any way; he merely waited until a fish swam near him and skewered it with a single unsheathed spike. When a fair number of fish had accumulated on his body, he pulled them off, one by one, and tossed them at Kirin, who was sitting on the bank of the stream thinking romantic thoughts. Kirin slowed the flying fish down with his mind until they stopped in mid-air, and then dropped them neatly into a pile on a rock. Sunlight sparkled on the water and fish-blood made interesting patterns on the rock; it was a happy domestic scene.
The arrival of Maya, freshly bathed and looking terribly bright, broke up the solid male silence. She greeted Kirin with a kiss. Spikes, sensing an opportunity, sent an exceptionally squishy fish flying towards Kirin, but Maya turned it into a flower and caught it, and sent a fireball steaming into water near Spikes. Spikes snorted and returned to his fishing.
‘What did Spikes say when you told him about us?’ she asked Kirin.
‘He had a lot to say,’ said Kirin. ‘He said “About time”, “Good”, and “Now don’t make a mess of this”. Even more significantly, he moved the corners of his mouth upwards by about a finger’s width, which is more exuberant than he’s ever allowed himself to be before. What can I say? It was emotional.’
Maya laughed and sat. ‘Listen,’ she said. ‘All this is just lovely, but we have to talk about what happens now.’
‘Fried fish,’ said Kirin, adding another one to the pile.
‘It’s time to go, Kirin. The unwaba kept us out of things for long enough. We need to get back into the game.’
‘Why?’
‘What do you mean, why?’
‘I mean the simple, standard Why? Why should we go anywhere near the game? I keep saying I’m not a hero, and then run off trying to be one. I’ve really had enough of quests and world-changing journeys. I’ve done my best, and achieved nothing. I’m not saying this to complain; I just think I’ve done enough, and now that I have a chance to be happy, I don’t intend to let it go. And I need a holiday. We both do.’
Maya nodded. ‘This life is almost perfect, Kirin, but it’s selfish. The world still has to be saved.’
‘Well, someone else can do it. Heroes turn up in situations like this, don’t they? We should make room for them. I can think of far better ways to spend my time. Completely unselfish and extremely acrobatic ways.’
‘Not good enough, Kirin. You can’t quit now.’
‘Says who? What do you suggest we do? Catch another safat and pay Zivran another visit? Put on mad prophet costumes and go tell people what the gods are doing and have them laugh in our faces and throw things at us? Turn up in the middle of a battle and ask them politely to stop? We’re up against gods, Maya. They make worlds, turn time, touch their noses with their tongues, that sort of thing. What can we do?’
‘Forget the world, then. We need to do something for ourselves. We just found each other. I don’t know about you, but I want this to last. I want to be able to grow old beside you, while you stay young and firm. For this to happen, the world has to be saved. It’s a reasonable request.’
Kirin shrugged and caught a fish. ‘We had a plan. We tried. We failed. The unwaba made fools of us. There’s a whole list of people who’ve sent us running around the world for nothing. How could we have believed that Zivran would take us seriously when we threatened to reveal what he did – and only ensure that our world would be destroyed? Anyway, now the world’s going to end, and there’s nothing we can do about it; it’s out of our hands.’
‘What do you want to do, then? Just stay here?’
‘Well, let’s put it this way. If the world was going to end soon, what would you want to do?’
Maya considered this for several minutes.
‘Get very drunk and fool around with you,’ she said finally.
‘Now that’s a reasonable request. I’d suggest Frags, but I think it’s gone.’
‘Who’s going to save the world, then?’
‘How would I know? Maybe Asvin is. Or your father. Or maybe some god will have a change of heart. I don’t really care; they should feel free to save us all if they want to. But it won’t be us. We’ll be elsewhere, having a good time.’
‘Where?’
‘This is a bit sentimental.’
‘I live for such moments.’
‘I promised you I would go to Bolvudis with you. I’d like to keep that promise, even if it’s years too late.’
Maya grinned. ‘I suppose this has nothing to do with the possibility of beaches, sunsets, mermaids and exotic drinks?’
‘Nothing at all. Your company is all I want.’
‘I’d feel very guilty, Kirin.’
‘You would learn to deal with it, given time.’
‘I’m serious.’
‘So am I. Compromise, then: Come with me until you know what needs to be done, and then you can change your mind.’
‘I don’t believe you’re actually talking me into this.’
‘Ravian mind control.’
‘Spikes!’ called Maya. ‘Do you want to go to Bolvudis and wait for the end of the world?’
‘Does it matter what I say or are we going there anyway?’
‘We’re going there anyway.’
‘Yes, then.’
Chapter Four
A slender crescent moon lit up the white limestone cliffs along the southern face of the island of Kah-Chuwa, the notorious pirate base south of Kol whose notorious pirate inhabitants terrorized the waters between Elaken in the west and Xi’en in the east. Beside one such cliff, pale grey in the moonlight, a little boat bobbed up and down on gently rolling waves. It was drawn by dolphins and surrounded by mer-people, floating with their heads and shoulders above water, their wild seaweed-encrusted hair waving in the warm, soft breeze. Two seagulls and a parrot sat on the boat’s prow, and four people of very diverse shapes and sizes sat within it. A little distance away, a large barge drawn by a very solid-looking elephant-makara sat stolidly, water lapping musically on its sides.
‘Mmfm?’ enquired Telu-Yeti.
‘Yes, we’re here,’ said the Dagger. ‘Patience, Telu-Yeti.’
‘She should have been here by now,’ said Fujen. ‘Something’s wrong. Why did she bring the ship to Kah-Chuwa in the first place?’
‘Perhaps we should go find the ship ourselves,’ said Mantric. ‘I’m tired of waiting, and I’ve heard there are pirates in these waters.’ He chuckled to himself as the others glared.
‘It’s not like Orpi to be late,’ said Fujen. ‘She said she had the ship ready; the figurehead’s been installed, the crew’s been assembled. Are you sure that’s exactly what she said, Pollux?’
‘Indubitably,’ said the parrot.
Jen shook her head. ‘Even if she had a run-in with the Brethren of the Skull, she should have taken the ship to safety and sent someone here to meet us. Where is she?’
‘She’ll be here,’ said the Dagger.
The sound of oars splashing made itself heard, and soon a longboat appeared around the cliff; in the distance, they could make out ten
sailors manning oars, and one short and extremely curvaceous figure standing and peering at them in the moonlight.
‘Baby-Duck!’ called Jen, and there was laughter in the longboat far away. The standing woman blew Jen a kiss.
‘Right,’ said the Dagger. ‘Disguises.’
‘Why do we need disguises?’ asked Mantric.
‘Because men aren’t allowed on board Fujen’s ships.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What I said. Wigs, Jen?’
‘Yes,’ said Fujen, dipping into a bag. ‘Captain Blonde, Redbraid, or Long Joan Silky?’
‘Captain Blonde,’ said the Dagger quickly. Fujen fished out an outrageously curly blonde wig, and the Dagger donned it with a flourish.
‘You, Mantric?’ asked Fujen.
‘I don’t understand,’ said Mantric. ‘We can’t save the world dressed as women!’
‘Why not?’ enquired Fujen, eyes narrowing. ‘Women can’t save the world?’
‘That’s not what I said,’ snapped Mantric. ‘We’d just look ridiculous dressed as women, is all.’
‘I’m surprised you say that,’ said the Dagger, grinning. ‘You wear a nightdress all the time.’
‘It’s a spellbinder’s robe, Amloki.’
‘Same thing. You’ll look very fetching in a gown. Try it; I quite enjoy the feeling myself.’
Mantric spluttered at him for a second, and then turned to Jen. ‘Why aren’t men allowed on your ships?’ he asked.
‘Bad luck,’ said Jen.
‘But I thought it was bad luck for pirates to have women on board.’
‘It is. For other pirates. Very bad luck if we’re on board. Now, they’re almost here, so we can’t chat. Orpi knows who you are, of course. The rest aren’t very bright. Redbraid or Long Joan Silky?’
‘Silky.’
Fujen threw Mantric a mop of straight black hair, and Mantric managed to pull it on his shining bald head just as Orpi’s longboat came close enough for its passengers to see him clearly.
‘I see where Maya gets her good looks,’ said the Dagger blandly.
‘Be quiet.’
‘I apologize in advance for getting drunk later and trying to have my way with you.’
‘Be quiet.’
‘Do we have to pretend to be females as well?’ asked Irik Seagull with some trepidation.
‘Won’t,’ said Stivin laconically beside him.
‘It’s quite all right,’ said Jen. ‘You are, after all, gulls.’
‘Mmfm!’ said Telu-Yeti.
‘What are you complaining about? You are a she-yeti, aren’t you?’
‘Mmfm.’
‘Well, then.’
The longboat drew up beside them and Orpi leaped into Fujen’s arms with a passionate ‘Baby-Duck!’ The sailors, who Mantric now saw were all women, cheered enthusiastically and wiped misty eyes. Orpi greeted Amlokini and Mantrica with warm hugs, and Mantric, like everyone who had ever met Orpi, was immediately entranced by her spectacularly large and appealing eyes.
‘Why are you late, my love?’ asked Fujen. ‘And where is our ship? I want to see it!’
‘It’s such a lovely ship, Baby-Duck,’ gushed Orpi. ‘Terribly expensive, but worth every bit of it. And you should see the figurehead! Aishwarya really is the most beautiful duck in the world.’
‘Well, where is the ship? What did you get, a trireme? A knaar?’
‘Please, love,’ shuddered Orpi. ‘I wasn’t going to throw that kind of money away on a rammer. We’re going to the edge of the world – did you expect the girls to row all the way? I spent on this ship. None of that star-navigation nonsense; we have compasses, sextants…it’s just a lovely, lovely ship. I thought for two whole days, and then I decided I wanted a carrack.’
‘You got a carrack! That’s brilliant! I’ve always wanted a carrack!’
‘What is a carrack?’ whispered Mantric to the Dagger.
‘Our ship, apparently.’
‘Well, it’s more than just a carrack,’ said Orpi, her eyes glowing with mischief.
‘How?’ asked Fujen.
‘Guess.’
‘All right, all right,’ said Fujen, smiling indulgently. ‘Four masts.’
‘You know me so well, love. Go on.’
‘High rounded stern. Forecastle, aftcastle. Let’s see…stern with bowspit?’
‘Of course.’
‘Hmm. Lateen-rigged mizzenmast, mainmast and foremast, what, square-rigged?’
‘You’re so clever, Baby-Duck.’
‘I can’t understand a word,’ whispered Mantric. ‘Can you?’
‘No,’ whispered Amloki sternly. ‘Now you know how everyone feels around you all the time.’
‘I can see the ship if I close my eyes,’ said Fujen. ‘And it’s a beauty, all right. Large square sails, wonderful propulsion, we reduce the sail size for storms. Smaller sails at bow and stern for better steering. And…oh gods…lateen sails for sailing across the wind?’
‘Yes,’ said Orpi, jumping in excitement. ‘Yes, yes!’
‘Oh, my love,’ said Jen, sweeping her up in her arms, ‘you shouldn’t have.’
‘Well, I didn’t,’ said Orpi.
Jen let go of her abruptly. ‘What do you mean? You didn’t get a ship?’
‘Of course I got a ship. What do you think of me? You don’t love me at all.’
‘Don’t sulk, Baby-Duck. Tell me everything.’
‘Well, I got this ship. Everything you described, and a stable deck, and onagers to launch Psomedean Fire from as well. Sixteen of them.’
‘Ooh, nice.’
‘Yes. It was the finest ship in all Kah-Chuwa. Fast, elegant, deadly.’
‘And then?’
‘And then I decided I didn’t like it. We’re going to meet the gods, aren’t we? It needed more.’
A huge smile spread slowly over Jen’s face. ‘What did you do?’
‘Take a deep breath, my love,’ said Orpi. ‘You’re going to need it.’
‘What did you do, Orpi?’
‘Lowered the forecastle. Elongated the hull. What does that mean?’
‘Reduced wind resistance in front,’ said Fujen breathlessly. ‘Stability. It won’t topple.’
‘Gave it a square tuck stern. Changed the head; the snout now projects forward from the bows below the forecastle. Lateen sail on the third mast. Oaken keel, pine masts, carvel hull. What do you think?’
‘It’s perfect,’ said Fujen. ‘I love you.’
Orpi simpered. ‘It’s not perfect,’ she said. ‘I wanted to get vaman explosives for you, or even Xi’en fire-shots, but I didn’t have time. I’m sorry.’
‘You’re sorry? You’re sorry? Just wait till I get you alone on the lower decks. You’ll be sorry then.’
‘Ahem,’ said Mantric, unable to restrain himself any longer.
‘What is it?’ snapped Fujen.
‘I apologize for intruding,’ said Mantric. ‘But where is this ship?’
Jen turned to Orpi, who was suddenly engrossed in twirling a strand of hair.
‘Well?’ said Jen after a while.
‘Don’t be angry, love,’ whispered Orpi. ‘I couldn’t bear it.’
‘I’m not angry, Orpi,’ said Jen. ‘At least, not yet. Where is the ship?’
‘I’m afraid I… sort of… lost it.’
‘I see. And how did you achieve this sort of losing it?’
‘I hate it when you talk to me like that. It’s so…cold. It’s as if you don’t-’
‘The ship, woman. Where is it?’
* * *
Orpi’s plan had been very simple. There were only three shipwrights in the world capable of making the modifications the Baby Duck needed. Of these, only one could be found at short notice, and he lived in Port Kah-Chuwa. The pirates of Port Kah-Chuwa were sworn enemies of Fujen’s, which made the whole operation very dangerous, but Orpi was a woman of steel, who sniffed at danger and looked at it sternly until it slank away, ashamed of itself. She h
ad stolen into Port Kah-Chuwa, abducted the shipwright and inspired him, with a combination of charm and cutlass-prods, to finish work on the Baby-Duck in record time. As payment, she had promised to return him to Port Kah-Chuwa in one piece; he had initially thought this was a poor bargain, but Orpi had persuaded him otherwise, pointing out entirely reasonably that the other alternative was not being returned anywhere, and in several pieces. Orpi was a woman who kept her promises, and she had taken the shipwright home without incident. It was after that that things had gone wrong. Flushed with victory, Orpi had decided to stop by at Crossbones, Port Kah-Chuwa’s most notorious tavern, for a drink or fifteen. She had forgotten one of the first things any pirate learned; no one went to Crossbones without losing something dear to them. The price for forgetfulness in Kah-Chuwa was high; in Orpi’s case, one ship.
Some time before Orpi’s daring incursion into enemy territory, several large and prosperous-looking galleys had weighed anchor at Port Kah-Chuwa; the first time in several hundred years that the island had received guests who were not pirates. These visitors were not seen as a threat to pirate power; they were fleeing the war in the north, and wanted to find uninhabited lands in the south to settle. They even spoke of attempting to cross the Vertical Sea, which proved that they were mad and endeared them further to their hosts. The pirates of Kah-Chuwa were always happy when their plunder came to them, thus sparing them a great deal of effort, and had given the newcomers a royal and rum-soaked welcome. Several days of drunken gambling later, the pirates were surprised to find that their guests were not only still alive, but had somehow managed to win the deeds to their hosts’ ships; it turned out that all the pirates in Kah-Chuwa and their ships had been commandeered to protect the strangers’ ships on their journey further southwards. The pirates had been forced to admire their new employers; the idea of hiring the very people who would have disrupted their voyage to protect them was one that appealed to the buccaneer mind. And there was no doubt that the strangers were all very charming, and incredibly good at dice. The strangest thing about the whole business, the pirates agreed, was that they did not resent this turn of events in any way, and were only even slightly dissatisfied because all their traditional methods of cheating at gambling tables had proved ineffective.