Corsair Princess

by Hausladen, Blake;

  The finality of his tone was pure Bessradi, and I understood this man at once. He’d put himself in charge of my northern lands. He controlled a commodity every man in Enhedu wanted and had gathered up the loyalties of all the subordinate craftsmen. Wood, metal, grain—he owned it. Barrels, kettles, and the spent grain for feed, too. He probably owned the hogs that ate the spent grain, as well.

  I had no doubt that if I rode up into the valley, I’d find his estate, brewery, and cooperage finished and perfected.

  He ruled Tayani—or had until Sevat arrived.

  And that ship in the bay. Bound for Thanin perhaps or maybe Abodeen with a load of beer? Would the brewer be so brazen as to sell it without paying the taxes owed to me?

  “Geart,” I said and waved him over while the rest looked on. He stepped in close.

  “I already sang,” he whispered. “This crowd is okay.”

  Of course it was. No thrall of the Ashmari would be up here in the north brewing beer or any other fool thing. This man was a member of Haton’s association, but his activities clearly had more to do with him being an ass than any connection to the Shadow.

  I thanked him and turned back to the crowd. The problem before me was far more domestic and far more dangerous.

  The brewer had everyone with him, too. The garrison commander, the town’s other master craftsmen, even the local reeve who worked for Selt stood with this man. In a year, he would have half of my province answering to him. He had an alsman’s hands too—soft and manicured.

  “Lord Prince,” he said with a bow. “Master Yerami Herren at your service. It is so very good of you to come. Can I offer you some of the local refreshment?”

  “Your brewers have tapped some of the new ale? Are they both here? I would meet them both.”

  He was not happy for the question—he was the only brewer in Enhedu as far as my craftsmen’s consortium was concerned. His subordinates were obvious in the crowd from their sudden smiles.

  “There you both are. Step forward,” I urged and stepped past Master Herren to shake their hands. “Fantastic that you are here—you’ll both want to hear the news.”

  “Lord Prince,” Master Herren said. “As I am the only credentialed brewer in Enhedu. News that affects my operation would be best discussed in private, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Not at all, Master Herren, not at all,” I said and clasped his shoulders. “You are a credit to us, sir. I could not have wished for a man of more business acumen to drive Tayani forward. We owe you a tremendous debt.”

  “You are too kind. Shall I have the ale brought? I have a room ready for you at my estate,” he said and leaned in. “You could take a bath, too. I have a girl you would like.”

  “No time for that, sir. I have come to do more than thank you.”

  “Ohh, my application, of course. How silly of me,” he said and tried again to draw me away from the crowd. “I am glad that my application—”

  “Oh, the loan you proposed will not be necessary. I am very pleased to offer you, instead, the post of bank overseer in Gorasus. You are just the man we need to establish our efforts there.”

  His expression flattened. “Gorasus? Isn’t that a mining town in Heneur? I was not aware you had interests there. You don’t mean to—”

  “Your ship will be sailing from Urnedi in a few days. Enhedu needs your service desperately, and we do thank you for accepting the position.”

  “But my businesses—”

  “My businesses, not yours. And no need for you to worry about them. I will nullify your current pledge of service, of course, and divide your interests amongst the craftsmen who worked for you. The craftsmen’s consortium will sort out their credentials, I am sure.”

  “Sergeant, Alsman,” I beckoned. “Can you please convey Master Herren safely aboard the next ship bound for Irdsay?”

  I still had hold of his shoulders and drew him out of the crowd by the arm.

  “Prince—”

  “Not another word,” I whispered, “or you’ll wish all I was doing was banishing you.”

  Master Herren stumbled along, too stunned yet to grasp his reversal. My sergeant and his men understood me. They gathered him up, and he was led away.

  I waved Errati over. “Get him to tell you where he keeps his books and rejoin Master Sevat here. You’ll stay a few days and help Sevat reorganize. The shipyard comes before the brewery. Be sure the rest understand it.”

  “You are a proper savage, aren’t you,” he said, and I did not understand it as a compliment until I caught the slight bend of his lip. “What shall I do with the crimes I find?”

  “I leave that to your judgment. Blame everything on Master Herren if the town gets behind Sevat. If you arrest anyone, send them to Urnedi for Avin to consider the evidence.”

  “I’ll find out who owns that ship we saw, as well.”

  “Yes, thank you,” I said and shook his hand before he trotted after the sergeant. The town watched them go.

  “Master Sevat,” I said, gathering back their attention, “I must continue on. I leave you in charge here. Please see that Master Herren’s holdings are divided out to his subordinates. I am declining all loan applications from Tayani until the matter is resolved. The first shipments of metals are also not for Tayani. All of it will be going to Master Gloss for the mills and threshers that keep us all fed. The second shipment will be provided for your use if I find your businesses well conducted.

  “You will take the time to put your town in order, I trust?”

  The crowd was smiling for the most part. The rest looked worried I would banish them, too, for their misdeeds.

  I left them to it—all their worries and their hopes.

  Spring was nearly over by the time we returned. I’d approved the great majority of the loan applications and handed out every tin coin and all of the notes Selt had prepared for me. He’d expected me to use half the amount, but I saw no reason to hold back. Moreover, I saw reasons upon reasons to force the notes into every willing hand.

  I would be in Bessradi in just a matter of days, arguing the case for Enhedu’s vote to be restored.

  And waiting for me at Urnedi were 10,000 freshly-minted silver coins and an operation geared up to deliver a quarter million each season. I could afford failures. A great many of them.

  I’d make that trip to Bessradi, and the Council would not refuse me.

  59

  Crown Prince Evand Yentif

  The End of Spring

  “Sir, we must be away,” the scout insisted.

  All I could do was gape at the body of the imposter.

  “Where is Yarik?” Liv asked.

  I pointed at the emblem upon the yellow cloaks of the Hurdu. “This is not the division that Yarik led to Doctrice. This is another. It rode in behind the Sten. I do not think that Yarik is even in Havish. The imposter was here to take credit for the victory.”

  “Sir!” the scout shouted and yanked us both by the arm.

  I picked up my head long enough to look past my failure.

  The field had changed. Thousands of Havishon cavalry swarmed the remaining Hurdu. To the north my infantry remained. To the west, another force of light horse was arriving. It flew the pennant of the Bellion. They were heading straight for us.

  “We must get back to the infantry,” the scout said, but as we judged the distances, the conclusion was forgone. One of the two, Havishon or Bellion, would have us.

  Liv pointed at the approaching Bellion, “Aren’t they men of your army? Can you not take command of them?”

  “I charged one of the Bellion’s favorite sons with treason. They’ll feed us to their pigs if they get hold of us.”

  “Then we go east,” she said and pointed at the clever scout. “He can pose as Sahin. Quickly, Prince—get out of that armor.”

  She stripped Sahin’s cloak and a massive silver signet ring from his finger and gave them to the scout.

  The exhaustions of the day made me slow but not stupid.
I pointed the scout toward Sahin’s horse, and Liv pointed at my armor.

  “You two,” I said to the other pair of scouts as I started taking it off, “Get Yarik’s imposter onto a horse. Sahin would not go back without his prize.”

  We were slow. The Bellion were just a spear’s throw away when we turned east.

  Liv stood up in the saddle as we fled them and waved to the Havishon. “Sahin is here, Ludoq. Ludoq, ho!”

  They swooped toward us like diving hawks and struck the Bellion hard.

  “Ludoq!” they screamed and bore us away.

  We rode back to the endless sound of their cheering.

  I got a glimpse of my infantry once through the press. Okel was withdrawing. If Marrow were fresh, I’d have made a try for it—snatched Liv onto my saddle, and dared them all to catch us. But my golden mare had nothing more to give than a slow walk through the army of my enemies.

  Their organization confused me as we went. I could get no sense of them. It was as if they were an army of lieutenants, every man free to act on his own. I did not see one senior officer. Pieces of the cavalry turned back west to loot the Hurdu and my Hemari. Some rode away east as if the war was over for them.

  Perhaps, it was.

  The East had won. The Sten and his army were slaughtered. The 5th was lost. The unbeatable Hurdu had been cut in half. Okel would be forced to withdraw the infantry to Alsonbrey or face the same. And here was the East, bloody but whole, with its royal line restored.

  We reached the forested ridge, and on the far side a vast camp sat astride an intersection of tithe roads. To the north was Dahar, its capital city of Sulma, and a long stretch of coast the Kaaryon discounted to a source of cheap slaves and bad wine.

  Liv led us to a wide tent in the center of the camp.

  I fixed it in my mind that to every man there she was royalty.

  “Leave us,” she said to the remaining escort, and the three of us ducked inside. A half-dozen men and a young woman whose face I could not place stood around a table packing the best of the mountain of loot into satchels and purses. They turned and drew weapons.

  “No,” Liv whispered. “Stand down.”

  I said to them, “I am Crown Prince Evand. You are my brother’s men from Enhedu, yes?”

  They relaxed a touch, but their weapons remained. “Sahin?” one asked.

  “The darkness took him finally,” Liv said. “We thought we had Yarik, but he is not in Havish. The armies of the Kaaryon were defeated. It is time to go.”

  I tried to be angry with them for the destruction of the 5th, but the trade of their lives for Yarik’s was one I’d been willing to make. I tried to focus on where I was and what was happening. “Where are you going?”

  The lieutenant said to me, “Sahin’s only reason for staying in Havish was to draw out Yarik and kill him. That goal is now beyond us, so we will make a break for Sulma and hire a ship to Enhedu.”

  “Where will we find Yarik?” Liv asked.

  “Bessradi,” I said. “If I can make it to the palace, I may convince my father to restore me. It is that or run for the rest of our lives.”

  “Then Bessradi is where we will go.”

  Guardsman Fostrish said, “We could head north to Sulma and from there cross the mountains back into the Kaaryon.”

  I nodded my agreement, and Liv said to my brother’s men, “Find them uniforms.”

  They had a collection of Havishon gear and every trapping of the Ludoq a tribal band of uncultured looters could gather up. Liv disappeared onto the far side of a divider while Barok’s boys helped us to new gear.

  “How long have you been camped here?” I asked.

  “Since the 28th, sir,” he said, very like a Hemari.

  “Looks like you managed to make proper kit from all these eastern trinkets,” I said. “Leger Mertone trained you?”

  He nodded and helped me assemble the last of it. Loose trousers, linen shirt, and tall leather boots, all made for riding. On top went a calf-length, vented uniform shirt of stiff blue linen sewn heavily with a gold brocade of fern branches and serpents. The low collar wrapped tightly around my neck and diagonally down from my right shoulder, across my heart, and down the length to my thigh. The catch clasps were made of gold, and both shoulders bore two stark black lines of diagonally sewn silk.

  “You’ve made us colonel?” I asked.

  “They’re called ‘disciples’ here, and they speak only to each other and the Ludoq. Divine bondsmen, you might call them. Never heard of them?”

  “No. What did you say about the Ludoq? There is more than one now?”

  “There is an entire family tree. Sahin worked it out with some men from Hida and that cretin from Doctrice. The arilas is the next in line. Right madman he is. If he gets back to camp before we get clear, we are all dead.”

  “And the priest from Doctrice? Where is he?” I asked. “I have a score to settle with him.”

  “Sahin fed him to the dogs. He taught Sahin a magic, but it made him sick. We didn’t think you would get here in time. Sahin’s days were numbered the moment that wretched man whispered words into his ear.”

  I didn’t have anything to say to that. I belted on a sword and found a shoulder-slung buckler.

  He said to me in passing, “Good work killing those Hessier upon the road.”

  There was not much for me to say to that, either. The boys from Enhedu were something else altogether from the rabble of the North or East.

  Liv appeared then, and I gulped. She’d found a fresh sheath of white that clung to her curves. Silver bracelets covered her forearms, and a thick silver torque circled her neck.

  “All of you, out,” she said loud enough for everyone in camp to hear.

  The lieutenant pulled and pushed us out.

  I nearly asked for an explanation, bit my lip, instead, and followed the lieutenant to a nearby cookfire. The men there cleared out of the way.

  The girl served out the food. All the camp was finding food as well. The pot above the fire was filled with a thick venison and taro soup. We ate standing up with wooden bowls and flat bread for spoons. I stuffed myself.

  “Ellyon?” the girl whispered to me, and I recognized the scar upon her cheek. She was the Abodish whore from Doctrice that my fallen captain Grano had considered buying.

  I shook my head, and she quietly cried.

  As others around the camp finished eating, they knelt southwest, bowed their heads, and recited the creed. I knelt with them when I was done, but the words sounded empty.

  What was it about me that my faith only came with joy—never sorrow? What kind of god was Bayen? A fool, was what, for spending the 5th so badly. I abandoned my prayer unfinished.

  “Disciple,” Liv called, “the Ludoq will speak to you.”

  I hurried across and stepped inside. She stood beside a tall-backed narrow chair wearing nothing but the circles of silver.

  “Sit,” she said with hungry eyes, and I obeyed.

  My shirt opened with a flickering of her fingers, and the flap on the front of my loose trousers opened with a single tug. She sat down slowly upon me, our eyes locked as we merged. She gripped the chair and my hands relearned the long lines of her legs, back, and arms. Her lips, her eyes, her flesh—I craved them even as our passions were savagely and marvelously satisfied.

  We clutched each other, stifled laughter, and kissed. She hugged me tightly, put her lips softly upon my ear, and said, “The rumors of me are true. I escaped Dagoda without taking the women’s medicine. I am with child, my prince. I will give you an heir like no other. Marry me.”

  “Happily,” I said, nearly too loudly in my haste, and kissed her anew.

  The moment there holding her was enough to repair my longing and fill me with a lifetime’s worth of happiness.

  We surrendered to the events of the day and made ourselves ready to rejoin the bitter world beyond.

  She opened the tent flap and said, “You there, make ready to depart. The disciples are t
o travel north to Dahar and Aneth. Be swift. Word of our victory must be carried upon divine lips.”

  They went, and we were afforded a last moment inside to kiss. She took one of the purses of gemstones, thought better of it, and grabbed a second.

  Horses were brought, Barok’s men pocketed the rest of the loot, and their lieutenant handed me a long curved knife. It was thin—meant to sever the spine and open the throat.

  “A butcher’s tool?”

  “Your horse cannot make this ride,” he said to me. I wanted to stick the knife in the man’s eye but lost the thought to another. The soup wasn’t venison. My stomach rebelled.

  And the moment was before me. The men were mounting up, and the camp looked on. Marrow stood next to another Akal-Tak, younger and stronger. The old girl was spent. I had used her up.

  I pitched the knife away. No one was going to eat my horse. I mounted the younger Akal-Tak and Marrow butted my thigh with her head.

  “You’re going to have to run now, old girl. They will be after us. Let this kid here take the load, and you just run. You hear me? You run now.”

  I gave the young gelding a kick, and we were off. Marrow stumbled once and grunted, but on she came. The dust and ash had taken its toll, and each great breath became a wheezing roar.

  Yet on, she came.

  “Come on!” I cried.

  On and on, through the evening and on into the dusk. It was the chase from Dagoda all over again, except that I was on the run this time.

  “Halt,” I cried when Marrow’s roaring became gasps. We drew up in a thicket. The men brought me brush and blankets while a small fire was built and water was warmed. I picked out her hooves and rubbed her legs. Liv helped me water and wash her. I combed her as she wheezed.

  She drank the warm water well, and I gave her a small bag of barley and half an apple. Sleep, long and restful, took us both.

  Liv and her maid woke me before the dawn. They had hold of the bucket of warm water and another small bag of feed. My good old horse woke faster than I, and my ancestors would have laughed to see me the rest of that day. I fell twice and needed help to tend to Marrow each time we stopped to rest.