"I've observed them extensively, but what I know about them is only theoretical." He paused in his slithering. "Is there something wrong?"
"There are many things wrong, Astrus, none of which I have any means to alter." Celeste had thought long and hard about what she'd witnessed in Astrus's tent, and finally realized that she could not confront him about it. Short of violence, there was no way she could stop what he was doing, and she wasn't prepared to go that far. "Why are the stars in this nebula all so similar? I've counted twenty-six here, and they're all blue-white and of a similar size and luminosity."
"Stars appear to be born in nebulae. It seems reasonable to assume that stars born side by side under similar circumstances will exhibit similar properties, just as the siblings from a single clutch of eggs exhibit similarities."
"Sibling stars." The idea appealed to Celeste. "Is this the only way stars are born?"
"I don't know." Astrus slithered around her again, and she felt his gaze on her. "I wish you'd tell me what's bothering you, Celeste."
"I'd rather not discuss it, Astrus. As I said, there's nothing I can do about it, so why belabor the matter?" Finished with her sketch of the star field, Celeste expanded the view to take in the entire nebula. She floated a new piece of paper up, and began sketching with various colored chalks. "I'd much rather talk about the stars."
"The stars will be there long after you and I are reduced to dust." He stopped slithering, leaning into her view so that his pale features were silhouetted by the nebula. "You're upset about something, which is a much more pressing issue. I hope my thoughtless comment about your tactics during the battle didn't offend you."
Was that an apology? If so, it was the lamest excuse for one she'd ever heard. And why the sudden concern for her state of mind? "No, Astrus. Your opinion of my tactics means nothing. You thought I was being reckless, while I believed that a direct intervention to delay Zelegan's forces was necessary."
"But you risked your life."
"So?" She did look at him now, skeptical of his worry for her life. "It's my life to risk. If I think something as marvelous as the Observatory is worth risking my life for, that's my choice."
"But that's why we have followers, Celeste. You're of more value than a gaggle of mere humans. It's their place to take the risk, to serve and protect us. It's what they're for."
"No, Astrus, it's not." Frustrated, Celeste rose on her coils, the beauty of the nebula shattered. She hadn't wanted this confrontation, but he wouldn't let the matter drop. "That's what you use your followers for. I don't have followers. I have friends and shipmates."
"How can you call such creatures your friends? They're nothing like us, Celeste! They're selfish and greedy. If you don't keep a tight rein on them, they'll betray you."
"You're wrong, Astrus, and the proof of it happened right before your eyes. Did a single one of your followers risk their lives to save you when that demon attacked you?"
"No, but that's irrelevant! They didn't know it would appear right behind me!"
"No, they didn't know, but they didn't leap to your rescue when it did, did they?"
"I don't see your point!"
"You know Dukkol, ‘my dwarf' as you refer to him. Did you see him put himself in the path of Zelegan's axe when I was in trouble?"
"I ..." His moonlit features paled to an even lighter hue. "I remember that he was injured, but I didn't see it happen."
Celeste knew his claim for a lie. Only an instant later his own spell had interrupted the dark priestess's invocation, so he had obviously been watching. She stared at him for a moment, reluctant to call him out on his blatant falsehood. He would only deny it.
"What you failed to notice was Dukkol saving my life." Her tail quivered in an involuntary display of temper. "He took the stroke that would have ended me, Astrus. Why would he do that? Why would someone not addicted to my venom, without any reason to risk his life for mine, put himself in the way of a blade for me?"
"I ...have no idea, Celeste."
"No, you don't. That's because your followers are slaves, and you truly are the slave master that I wished you weren't."
"Slave master! What are you talking about?"
"You enslave people with your venom against their will."
"I do nothing of the kind! My followers enter into my service out of devotion and a desire to serve me."
"Liar! I saw what you did to Eutep."
"You were spying on me?" He reared back, more surprise than temper in his eyes.
"Not intentionally. I came to speak with you and heard what was happening, but then I watched what you did. You made him a slave against his will, Astrus!"
To Celeste's amazement, Astrus didn't deny her accusation, but smiled wryly. "Well, there is the occasional reluctant convert." Astrus's illusory human form shrugged. "The man had nowhere else to go, and he owed me a debt. Yes, his first dose was forced, but why don't you come by tomorrow morning, at my invitation. You'll see how eagerly my followers embrace their so-called ‘slavery.' It's all part of the larger plan, Celeste. My followers take care of me, and I take care of them. Have you seen any of them go hungry or thirsty?"
"No ..." Celeste grudgingly admitted. "Are you trying to tell me that this is a mutually beneficial relationship? I don't believe that. Followers are one thing, slaves are another."
"What you call slavery, I call devotion. You and I are lunar nagas. Our thoughts should fly among the stars, not be dragged down with mundane concerns. There is a reason our venom is addictive. We were meant to have followers. The gods made us so."
"Divine ordinance is the excuse of many a petty tyrant!"
"Celeste," Astrus's voice was curious, unperturbed by her vehemence, "what were your interactions with humans and their ilk while you were growing up?"
The question startled her. "I had none. I never saw a human until I'd been out on my own for many years."
Astrus nodded. "Now I understand, and I apologize if my words or actions have seemed strange to you. You see, I recruit followers the way I do because that's what I was taught to do by my elders. I was told never to trust humanoids, and I never have. You, on the other hand, never experienced the kind of—What was your phrase for it?—mutually beneficial relationship that many lunar nagas and their followers enjoy. But I assure you, this is quite an accepted way of life among our people."
"But those ways are wrong," she insisted.
"What is right and what is wrong? These terms are relative, dependent on culture. Was I wrong to force Eutep into my service? Perhaps, but he's also alive because of me. After he works off his debt, he's free to leave ...if he still wants to."
"But he'll be addicted to your venom!"
"You told me that your Captain Vin weaned himself from your venom. Have you so little faith in humans will that you believe that others can't do the same?"
Celeste was about to argue when a memory brought her up short. Chained in a dungeon, hearing a voice, and seeing a man looking in at her. Torius ...So desperately had she longed for rescue, she'd cast a spell on him, enslaving his will so he would take her away. Was that really so bad, considering that she and Torius now loved one another? Tears of shame welled in her eyes, and she turned away. She was more like Astrus than she had believed.
Astrus slithered closer, circling Celeste as he spoke. "Why focus on our differences, Celeste? Of course we have different beliefs. Like stars born in different nebulae, we are shaped by our upbringing. Can we not, as we decided before, agree to disagree on those points? What we should focus on are our similarities. We are both observers of the cosmos. It's our calling, our passion."
Agree to disagree.
The offer loomed there, as tempting as a piece of low-hanging fruit. She didn't trust Astrus, didn't even like him—but then, she didn't have to. Taking advantage of his vast experience with the Observatory, she could learn the secrets of the cosmos by leaps and bounds, rather than piecemeal as she had been doing on her own.
Agree to
disagree. "Very well, Astrus." Celeste took a deep breath and suppressed the urge to twitch her tail. "I agree to disagree on that point."
He bowed low in a parody of the typically human gesture. "Excellent! Now, may I show you another nebula that might interest you? This one also has newly birthed stars, but is distinctly different from the one you were just observing."
Celeste considered returning to her tent to think things over, but the fruit Astrus dangled before her hung there, ripe for the picking, and her hunger for knowledge remained as insatiable as ever. She stretched out on the platform and gazed into the heavens. "Show me."
∗ ∗ ∗
Damned fluky winds. Torius watched the smooth surface of the sea whip up into wavelets with an approaching gust. "Slack sheets! Gust to windward!"
He grabbed hold of the aft stay as the wind hit the ship hard enough to lay her over on her beam ends. Just as suddenly, the gust vanished. Stargazer righted herself and cruised on. The afternoon dragged in the lee of the Isle of Kortos, with shrieking gusts funneled through the high mountains interspersed with dead calms. It was a far cry from the desert siroccos screaming off of Qadira, driving them along at twelve knots and better for the past few days. And yet, the tension was not only due to the nerve-wracking winds. As they neared their destination, suspicions about Vreva's offer plagued him.
Vreva. Torius shook his head. All these years, he'd reviled her for cozying up to slavers, exchanging sex for gold earned through the blood and sweat of the innocent, much as his mother had done for her sweet pesh. To think that she's actually a spy ...
"That's our cape, isn't it, sir?" Thillion joined Torius on the quarterdeck, ready for his pending watch.
"Yes." Torius kept his eyes on the sea.
"And this ship we're meeting is already there?"
"Supposed to be." Torius spared Thillion a glance. The elf was fiddling with his puzzle chain, deep in thought. Torius couldn't blame him. The secrets he'd kept at Vreva's behest were icing on an already suspiciously sweet cake. He'd only told them he was considering a dangerous job that would pay well. When he had all the details about the letter of marque, he would reveal the offer, gauge their responses, and make a decision. The rest, working as Vreva's intermediary, he intended to keep close to his vest until they needed to know.
Besides, how was I supposed to tell them that we're meeting with a Gray Corsair?
When he went back to Vreva's the following day to get the details of the arrangement, and she told him who he would be meeting, he'd jumped up off of Vreva's divan as if he had sat on a tack. The naval arm of the Steel Falcons was legendary, not only for its relentless pursuit of slave ships, but also for its persecution of pirates. They were some of the hardest fighters and finest sailors in any navy.
"Oh, relax, Torius," Vreva had assured him. "The Gray Corsair captain will tell you what you can expect, and what's expected of you as a privateer. They want to size you up before you meet Admiral Weathers, who heads up the Office of Privateering Actions. But be careful. Neither the Gray Corsairs nor Admiral Weathers will know about your assignment as my intermediary. That must remain a secret, even from Andoran's own military. If too many people know what you are, there's the threat of a leak, and that would be lethal. Once you receive your letter of marque, you'll be contacted by an operative of my organization." She would give no more details until he had committed himself and his ship to her cause, and before he could do that, he had to impress a Gray Corsair captain.
Eight bells struck just as another gust urged Stargazer closer to the cape, and the watch changed.
"Your watch, Thillion, but I'll stay on deck until we meet our contact." He nodded to the tousled sea beyond the cape. "Looks like we'll be getting our wind back soon."
"Aye, sir." Thillion took his customary station near the wheel and observed the change of the watch with professional interest. "Any precautions?"
"Hell yes! Send for Snick and Grogul. We should be ready for a fight, but I don't want to look like it, if you know what I mean." There was that lingering suspicion, after all.
"I know exactly what you mean, sir." Thillion grinned and called the bosun's mate aft. "Fenric, send for the bosun and the engineer. We'll bear up as we round the point, so furl the squares, and rig main staysails."
"Aye, sir!" Fenric squinted at the wind-tossed sea beyond the cape. "Reef in the main, sir?"
"No. We'll spill wind if we have to, but I want all the speed we can muster if we need it."
"Aye, sir! Fenric relayed the orders, and the topmen swarmed aloft to make the changes in sail
"Mind your sheets, Fenric!" Thillion called out as the rippled water approached. "Bring her up as close as she'll bear as we round the cape, Windy."
"Aye, sir!"
"Colors, sir?" Fenric asked.
Thillion raised one eyebrow and looked to Torius. "Captain?"
Stargazer carried flags for every nation bordering the Inner Sea, but Torius wasn't interested in such a ruse this time. "We'll keep the Katapesh colors aloft for now."
"Aye, sir."
"And I'm telling you to keep the crew away from those things!" Snick's shrill tone cut through the wind like a knife, drawing Torius's attention to the stairs to the main deck. "They're not full of alcohol, and if they pop a cork, they'll be sorry!"
Snick and Grogul ascended to the quarterdeck, an incongruous pair at any time, even more so now. The gnome's face was flushed pink with ire, while Grogul looked more chagrined than intimidating.
"I'll tell 'em, but maybe we should lock the things up just to be safe."
"Locking something up just tells everyone that it's something they might want to poke their noses into! Trust me on that!"
"Trouble?"
They both saluted to Torius's question.
"Not really, sir." Snick made a face. "Some of the crew seem to think those new warheads are actually liquor bottles disguised so they won't mess with 'em. If they pry the caps out of those incendiaries ..."
"No worries, sir. I'll give 'em the word."
"Tell them the truth, Grogul. That ought to scare the thirst right out of them." Torius pointed to the upcoming cape. "When we round that point, we're going to meet up with another ship. They're supposed to be friendly, but we won't know until we get close."
"Meanin' this could be another double cross."
"I don't think so, Grogul, but I don't want to bet my life on it. Let's look as harmless as we can, but be ready for a fight. Got it?"
"Got it, sir!" Snick grinned and scampered off with a quick salute. "I better get to work!"
"All steel, no swagger. I'll tell the crew." Grogul left, and in short order the preparations were underway. Weapons were stowed out of sight but within easy reach, grapples coiled behind the bulwarks, and fire buckets filled and ready. The main hatch cover was replaced with a grating so orders could be relayed to Snick belowdecks.
As they rounded the cape, the wind increased sharply. Stargazer heeled and surged forward, her bow rounding up into the wind. Windy Kate let her come up as close as she would lie without luffing and held her steady. Torius took a deep breath. This was it. He was committing himself on the word of a courtesan-turned-spy who had already betrayed them once. The cove opened up off their starboard bow.
To an untrained eye, the galleon anchored there looked like a large, well-appointed merchantman, her three masts all rigged with perfectly squared yards. Through Torius's best spyglass, the ship's true nature became clear.
"She's ready for trouble." Thillion squinted through his own glass.
"That she is, and she's half again our length and four times our tonnage." Torius swept his glass from bow to stern, noting the orderly configuration of lines and blocks, the array of strategically placed barrels around the deck—weapon caches, no doubt—and the canvas-covered lump on the foredeck that might pass for deck cargo, but looked suspiciously like a catapult. Unlike Snick's masterful joinery, which rendered Stargazer's firing ports virtually invisible, the ou
tlines of the galleon's firing ports were clearly visible to Torius's trained eye. Though none of her deck crew wore uniforms, they stood with military precision and bearing. "Twelve ports along her sides. That's twice our armament, and probably many times our numbers. We do not want to start a fight with that ship, Thillion."
"Aye, sir, but we could sail circles around her on any point of wind." The elf grinned, and Torius wondered what he was thinking. "I'm just saying, sir, if we have to ..."
"Right." Torius thought that perhaps it was better that he didn't know what the elf was thinking. "Tack the ship when we've got a line to come up to them, and let's not be lubberly about it."
"Aye, sir!" Thillion gave the order, and Stargazer came about like a well-trained team at the crack of a coachman's whip. Canvas fluttered and filled with little loss of momentum, and they bore down on the exact center of the cove.
"Nicely done, Thillion. Anchor us to port of ..." He looked again as the galleon swung on her anchor. Gold letters framed by two golden wings glittered on her transom. "...Gold Wing."
"Aye, sir. Bring her up a point, Windy. Grogul! Douse the main, forestays'l, and inner jib. Put someone in the forechains with a lead line. We'll luff up half a cable's length upwind on her port side and drop anchor. Smartly now!"
"Aye, sir!"
Stargazer slowed as her sails were furled. As they neared, a figure on the galleon's poop prepared to hoist a flag. Torius felt a rush of nerves and steadied himself. "And Thillion, no matter what flag they raise, no weapon is to be bared unless they do so first or I give the order."
The elf's smile drooped. "Understood, sir." He relayed the orders, and Torius heard some grumbling.
The entire crew was on deck watching as the galleon's flag shot up the mizzen and unfurled in the breeze: a golden eagle on a field of blue and gray, a sword clutched in one talon, a branch in the other. Every eye aboard snapped around to look at Torius with mixed expressions of surprise, worry, or shock. A couple of pirates even reached for hidden crossbows.
"Avast there!" Torius commanded, and the errant sailors stood down.
"Andoran, Captain?" Thillion's face remained inscrutable, but there was worry aplenty in his voice. "A Gray Corsair? Are you sure about this, sir?"
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