Corsair Princess

by Hausladen, Blake;

  “We’ve crossed into Dahar,” Liv told me before covering me with a blanket that night. In the paddock, Marrow stood guard over the younger mares.

  We caught the smell of the sea the next afternoon, and I did not like it. I’d never been so close to those treacherous depths, and the sight of it troubled my soul. How could men be so foolish? Men were born with legs, not fins. We crossed a wide bridge and found the city of Sulma upon a hill.

  We bid farewell to the half-dozen men of Enhedu there. I told the lieutenant to thank Barok for his letter and his gift. He told me that I would always be welcome in Enhedu.

  Liv kissed their hands.

  We shed our royal finery in a nearby wood and treated Marrow to an extra long rest.

  “Tough old girl,” I said and hugged her.

  “Shh,” the scout warned, and we hunkered down in time to watch a hundred Havishon gallop by like madmen. We could just see the top of the city and the bay beyond. A ship had made its way out into the bay, but by the time we’d gotten ourselves ready to move, the ship was being pursued.

  “We must get away from here,” the scout said.

  “You tell me that too often,” I said back. “I must know if they escape.”

  The scout protested but did not have to for long. The ship was caught just outside the bay by two others. Smoke rose, and then flames. All three ships began to burn and then sank.

  The men of Enhedu do not die easy.

  The four of us crept north for many days. The slow pace was good for us all, and we made it into the foothills of the Jivillion Mountains. The scout kept us out of sight of miners, shepherds, and whatever eastern devils populated that rough place.

  The valley on the far side was the Kaaryon, and the long fences and cultivated fields made my soul feel at home.

  Marrow ate us out of apples and eggs. On the day we arrived at the riverside town of Batist, the old girl started looking restless, and I rode her for a part of the afternoon.

  I bought a ship there and the crew to go with it, and Marrow enjoyed a proper stall beneath a canvas tent the whole way south. The scout and the maid slept in the hay in the next stall over, but they couldn’t complain about the accommodations—Liv and I were in the one on the other side.

  We lay there in the warm straw those days and did little more than sleep in each other’s arms.

  60

  Geart Goib

  “A bit warm this morning for a fire,” Avin said and rolled his log stump back several paces. A Chaukai handed him a plate of ham steak and a mug of beer. Ryat took only the offered beer and stayed where he was. I would have moved closer to the fire but was nearly burning myself already. The crackle of the birch upon the fire mixed with the rumbled of the water crashing down from the falls.

  “Any progress?” Avin asked.

  “I’m hopeful,” I said. Avin did not look impressed. “Barok sent you?”

  “You did leave a bit abruptly. But no, it was Dia who asked us to check on Lilly—and you.”

  “She’s just there,” I said and pointed to the small lump of bedroll and blankets. “She spent all afternoon yesterday running up and down her favorite trails.”

  Avin said nothing more. He ate his breakfast and waited on me. There was little chance I could outlast him.

  I said, “No, she has not learned any new words. The voice of the Spirit has not touched her since our visit to the island.”

  “Why did you think going on the tour would help her?”

  “There was one time when I was close to learning a noun—back in Alsonbrey. We were standing in front of the mountain of silver. It was the only time I’d not needed the word. I’d hoped that standing in the center of the pine forest or a vast field of wheat would do the same to her.”

  Ryat looked at Avin, “Not much flaw in that. I’d have thought the same. Any ideas?”

  My teacher gave it much thought, but he shook his head. “No. I’d thought perhaps she would need to know more about the world—the vocabulary of it, before the words would come, but your plan has accounted for this as well.”

  “Maybe,” Lilly said, “maybe He hates silver.” She’d sat up and was rubbing her eyes. Her long blond hair was matted and tangled around her head. She brushed it out of her mouth, sucked on her thumb for a second, and then spat noisily from the taste of whatever was upon it.

  “Jewelry you mean?” Ryat asked.

  “No, silly,” she said. “The Shadow loves mercury. Maybe He hates silver just as much, and you could hear Her better when there is lots of it around.”

  “What about the mine?” Avin asked.

  “Which?” I asked.

  “The quarry. There is a silver mine hidden beneath it. It must be more or less right beneath us. I’d assumed you’d picked the spot in order to be close to the camp and so many guards.”

  “It hadn’t crossed my mind,” I said but began to wonder. I’d picked the place after seeing the falls from aboard Soma’s ship. Had I seen something else, too?

  “Let’s go see it,” Lilly said. “Can we?”

  Half a season earlier, I would have said no. Taking an eight-year-old girl into a working mine sounded like the kind of thing Dia would skin me alive for.

  “Please? Please, can we?” she asked with an exaggerated smile and her hands clasped together. She knew how perfectly torturous this was, and the effectiveness of this pleading could not be questioned.

  Avin laughed, the Chaukai smiled, and it was agreed.

  Our guards began to prepare as though for parade review. Every man set to work brushing his boots, combing his hair, and dusting his overcoat.

  “What’s all this about, Sergeant?” I asked.

  “The prince is visiting the quarry this morning before he leaves for Bessradi,” he said.

  I’d been too long in the company of our excitable prince recently, but it was past time to say no to Lilly.

  The Chaukai formed up smartly and got us moving down toward the quarry.

  “Hurry,” Lilly said with big teeth and giggles. She tugged on greencoat sleeves and ran around their formation. “We’re going to be late. Very, very late,” she insisted, and there was no convincing her otherwise.

  The forest was thick there, with the tall spruce and huckleberry that dominated the rough hills south of Urnedi. The territorial grunt and snort of a boar put the greencoats on guard. A couple of apples were thrown its way, and the monster let us pass.

  We found our way off the hill, reached the hard pack of the road, and turned back south toward the quarry. The place looked nothing like it had the last time I’d seen it. The cranes and their pony teams were missing. The scaffolding and half-finished stones upon the side of the scoop of granite looked dusty and forgotten.

  The men swinging hammers there were not striking blocks of stone but small metal blocks as others set them into place. Nace was in the center of this work beneath the shade of a small hooded forge. He was all but hugging the blazing oven as he carefully measured out amounts of silver onto the ready blocks. Each was plunged into the forge and then hurried across to a ready man who set a die upon the molten disk and struck it once with a resounding blow. The resulting coin was nudged into a pot of water and passed to a man at a table for inspection.

  They were minting silver standards. A lot of them. Barok had found Kyoden’s mine. Chaukai were good at keeping secrets. I’d not heard a peep about the place.

  Barok and Selt strode around a large block of stone at the back end of the quarry floor. The two of them made quite a pair compared to the dusty men banging away on the coins. Their royal tunica and robes were blue enough to woo the sky, and they moved with a confidence I’d not before seen in men. Barok had never looked stronger.

  He was surprised by our appearance, but Lilly interrupted our greeting by running straight to Nace. “Can I have one? No, two. Wait. Four.”

  Barok waved him on, and her smile broadened as the new coins clinked into her hands. He turned to me and asked, “She is doing we
ll?”

  I’d barely nodded my head when she took off at a run toward the mine entrance. We were all after her, but the fleet-footed girl was sprinting from the first moment. She made it around the tall block and partway down the lamp-lit gloom of the mineshaft before she came to a stop.

  “It’s okay,” I said to her as Barok and I led the rest up behind her. “Don’t be scared.”

  “I’m not scared, silly,” she laughed. “Is that Her? Is She here? Can you hear Her?”

  I could not. Ryat shook his head. Lilly held out her hand. I took it, and we started down.

  “Cart,” came a call from below. “Cart, coming up.”

  “Hold,” Nace shouted. “Crew coming.”

  Nace encouraged us to hurry, and Lilly pulled me down into a wide chamber where miners loaded a waiting line of small carts. The passage beyond opened onto a marvel. It was like we were peering from the underside of one shelf of a bookcase between two gray tomes and down at the shelf below. Oil lamps lit the level bottom, and at the far end was an immense vein of silver. It caught the light and seemed to flow toward the miners like glowing water.

  “No,” Lilly screamed at the sight, as if they were cutting the heads off of rabbits. “No, stop it.”

  She ran toward them still screaming, and we followed her to the base of the vein of silver. She grabbed the nearest miner and started beating upon him with her little fists. She took hold of his arm and bit him. He stumbled away, and I caught hold of her.

  “Lilly, stop,” I said, but the fight had gone out of her. She turned to me, smiled, and said the word.

  silver

  I fell to my knees from the sublime touch of this gift. My ears popped and tingled, and we looked together up the silver stairway. It was as though it was saying hello. Barok and the others looked on as though we were mad.

  “So lonely,” she said to me. “No one talks to Her anymore.”

  She stepped across and touched the wall of the mine.

  granite quartz

  The entire mountain seemed to hum a hello. I felt the size of it—the great rising spire of dark stone. I’d never felt so small in all my life.

  “They are so lonely,” she wept, flung her arms around my neck, and buried her head against my chest.

  I lifted her up and pointed her toward other, quieter places. “Say hello to them all,” I said, coaxed her head up off my shoulder, and pointed.

  The words rolled from her.

  shale sandstone slate marble salt lead

  I wept as she sang it, and wept again as I looked at the wound that had been gouged into the vein of silver.

  Lilly shouted across at Barok, “You must stop taking the silver. I can hear Her here. She is so sick now—so alone. You cannot take it, Prince Barok. This is where I will sing.”

  “But I need the coins. They are promised to thousands of enterprises. I must …” He stopped there. His face was ashen.

  “Can you feel it?” I asked him.

  He nodded, sank to his knees, and wept. “I am sorry, great lady. So very sorry for having taken from you. We will stop the mining and bring back all of the silver we have taken.”

  The mine had not been the source of Edonia’s wealth, and it could not be the source of Barok’s wealth, either.

  We had found the home of the druids, but Barok was ruined.

  61

  Madam Dia Yentif

  Selt Sestar

  The hall settled to an excited hush when we heard Barok make his way up. A fantastic meal waited for him upon the long tables, and a great many people were gathered round to wish him a safe and speedy trip to Bessradi. I was still quite frustrated that Geart had run off and was quite angry that he was not going along to the capital to safeguard my prince. Bessradi loved to kill princes.

  I steeled myself against the fast-approaching farewell and put on a smile. It perished as I saw his face. “What has happened?” I asked.

  He said nothing and dropped in a chair as though none of us were there. Selt, Gern, and Errati followed him in. Each was more miserable looking than the last. Selt checked the faces in the crowd. He was not satisfied.

  “Apologies, everyone,” he said. “Matters require the prince’s undivided attention. We need you all to depart.”

  I crossed to Barok while the stunned crowd did as it was told. When they were gone, Selt told me what had happened at the mine.

  “We’re finished,” Barok said. “It will all collapse.”

  “Then stay and fix it,” I said to him. “Don’t go to the capital. You are not ready to face them yet anyway. Stay and save your bank.”

  “It is lost,” he said. “Everything is lost.”

  “Not until you are dead and the world is lost. Do not go to Bessradi.”

  “I cannot decline the invitation of the Council,” he said.

  “Then don’t decline. Send word that your ship was delayed by storms and forced you to turn back. Blame the sea. Bessradi has no love or trust in it.”

  “Delayed at sea?” Selt asked hopefully. “They would think you mad for trying to sail around to Bessradi.”

  “Even if I stay, it would not matter,” Barok said. “I’ve loaned out nearly a half-million-standards worth of silver with nothing to back it but a handful of gold. Once it is known that I cannot repay any of it, everything ends. All of Urnedi will go unpaid. Their business will collapse from lack of customers. They will be unable to buy anything or make anything. Urnedi will vanish.”

  “Then you hold it together with lies, threats, and your bare hands.”

  He looked ready to throw up. He folded and unfolded his arms, and slumped forward despite me.

  I turned to Errati, flailing now for any mad idea. I asked him, “What was it Parsatayn was expecting that you would report back to him?”

  “Barok’s movements, the source of his funds, the size of his army, if he had any children—an updated copy of your census, too, so that he knows how many slavers he needs to send—he wanted to know everything.”

  “So report it,” I said, and they gaped at me. I added hastily, “You miss my meaning. Report Barok’s vast wealth and name all those who are secretly backing him. You need Zoviya to believe that you are soaked with gold. What better way than to convince the Chancellor?”

  “I’d have to report all the rest to make it believable,” Errati said. “Parsatayn must already suspect that I have betrayed him. Anything less than a complete report would be seen as a falsehood.”

  “Not a bad trade.” Selt said.

  “Sorry?” Barok asked.

  “Saving the bank. Dia is right. If the Chancellor could be convinced you sit atop a pile of gold, we might be able to keep the confidence of our borrowers long enough to stabilize our reserves. I would trade that for a few secrets.”

  Barok sat up. “Some of our secrets, perhaps.”

  The four of us knew better than to speak just then. Barok’s eyes slowly narrowed and hardened. He coiled tighter and tighter until whatever plot he was conjuring began to take shape. He asked Selt, “Which bank will fail first?”

  “Urnedi, and quickly. You have no funds here at all at present. We were relying entirely upon the mine. Almidi’s confidence in the Bank of the Pinnion was good when I left the city, but I expect at least twenty-five percent of the note holders to request redemption when I return. The bank has just two percent at most. Wilgmuth is flush at the moment with the spoils of its victory over the Serm so did little borrowing in comparison, but reserves there are only slightly better.”

  The information went in, and Barok’s hands began to flex as though the air was made of numbers that could be worked into loaves of bread. He spoke in a whisper, as if to himself. “The tithe coins spread in every direction—all of it.” He turned on Selt and demanded, “Who holds the most coins?”

  “The families of the Oreol. They were wealthy to begin with, and much of the tithe ended up there.”

  “Hmm. We force them to open accounts,” Barok said.

 
; “Force them?”

  “Not the word we’ll use, I suppose. We call them citizen’s accounts or something—guarantee the land leases for anyone who holds an account.”

  “Their leaseholds are already guaranteed by contract.”

  “Well, yes, but that is just my promise, isn’t it. The guarantee of the Bank of the Pinnion—now that is something worth opening an account for.”

  I said, “You could ask the same of the Chaukai. They are not without coins, and it would make it easier for our new neighbors to do it if they were in line at the bank with our greencoats.”

  Selt was becoming just as twitchy as Barok, and Errati seemed on the verge of the same level of excitement.

  Barok said, “It could be enough. Just enough to get us to the summer and the collection of rents and interest. My stipend might even arrive. Add all of that up and maybe, maybe there is enough to get Enhedu through until autumn. Could it? Yes … yes!”

  Selt asked, “What about Almidi?”

  “We send word that we’ll be traveling there after the turn of the season to redeem any notes.”

  “That’s a long twenty days for Almidi to stew,” Selt said. “And what then when we arrive? We’ll have nothing with which to pay the notes.”

  Barok tapped his fist upon the table. Selt hissed. Errati sat at the writing desk.

  They’d be at it the rest of the day.

  “Plenty of food here for you,” I said and started toward the stairs before they started talking numbers. “I’ll summon all of the scribes. Is there anyone else I should call for?”

  It was a foolish question to ask. They rattled off two dozen names.

  I escaped while I could. Selt caught up to me as I was making my way out across the drawbridge.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “One thing I have to know—Barok didn’t want to—but at least one of his envoys should be aware.”

  “Spit out your question, Selt.”