“You have a report for me?” Terian asked. “Or were you just malingering in hopes of ambushing me for your own entertainment?”
“My own entertainment?” Sareea asked, amused. “All I do, I do for the Sovereign—and of course for the greatness of House Lepos.”
“And your own, presumably?” Terian asked.
“Somewhere down the line,” Sareea agreed, but in the way she said it, Terian caught more of her amusement than truth.
Terian steered his course over the docks, the clunking of his boots and Sareea’s keeping time with their march. As he weaved around a right turn onto a quay, he realized that Xemlinan was waiting in the shadows of an upturned crate. The smell of fish was stronger here, and it made Terian’s nose curl. Sareea wisely said nothing, and Dahveed did not speak either. The clunking of the boots on the dock was all the sound Terian heard until he got close enough to hear Grinnd’s enthusiastic tones.
“Report?” Terian asked as he closed in on Grinnd. The big man was still in conversation with the sea captain, nodding along with something the captain said. He turned at Terian’s voice.
“Ah, you’re here,” Grinnd said with his usual smile. It’s unseemly for a warrior to be so damned friendly and happy. “I’ve got quite a lot to report, actually.”
“Almost all of it sap and silliness,” Verret said, lurking in the shadows near Xemlinan’s upturned crate.
“Almost all of it interesting,” Grinnd corrected, not backing off his smile. “Twenty-seven boats have gone missing in the last three weeks alone.”
“Is that a lot?” Terian asked. “Comparatively speaking, I mean?”
“They typically lose one per year,” Grinnd said, “and there are almost always survivors. Not a single survivor has turned up from these, so—yes, it’s a lot. There were more before that, but the harbormaster wasn’t keeping a tally until the numbers got high enough to catch his notice.”
“A real ‘big picture’ sort of fellow,” Xem said with a dose of irony. “Clearly concerned about the well-being of those sailing from his port.”
“I got the sense that he didn’t care about much of anything so long as his quotas weren’t affected,” Verret said with an air of irritation. “I would recommend to your father to have that one sent to the Depths and replaced by someone more competent—and less drunk. The man is clearly a traitor by his dereliction of his post.”
“Tell my father yourself if you feel that strongly about it,” Terian said. I don’t really want to be responsible for some poor, sodden bastard getting that treatment.
“The disappearances happened all over the Great Sea,” Grinnd said, apparently unfazed by Verret’s diatribe. “No one specific area that the ships were fishing. Most of the fleet is sticking close by the shores at present, and fish yields are dropping by the day.”
“Getting messy,” Xem said. “I’d say it’s a mess best left to someone else, but since your father assigned us this duty …” He sighed. “What now, Terian?”
“We go out on the sea, I guess,” Terian said, unblinking. “Figure out what this is for ourselves.” He looked to Grinnd. “What are you thinking?”
“I am but asking questions of these people, my friend,” Grinnd said with a warm smile. “I leave it to smarter men than me to draw conclusions.”
“Grinnd,” Terian said, “there aren’t many smarter men in Saekaj Sovar than you. You have a working theory, yes?” He waited for Grinnd to nod. “Out with it.”
Grinnd took a deep breath and sighed, tapping his big fingers on his dark-plated armor as he adjusted the swords across his back without any apparent thought. “The disappearances are quite vexing. My first instinct might run to pirates.”
“Pirates?” Verret said, turning his head to look at Grinnd as though the warrior were mad. “On the enclosed, buried Great Sea?”
“Aye,” Grinnd said, “it was but a working hypothesis that I quickly rejected. The men who know the Great Sea tell me that there aren’t any coves or grounds where any such pirates might be hiding. And the difficulty of maintaining a ship, overpowering crews—it just doesn’t sound feasible given that secrecy would be of the utmost importance. The moment that secrecy ended, the Sovereign’s own wrath would descend upon the pirates, and the Great Sea offers little in the way of hiding places. In addition, these fishing trawlers are not exactly prizes.”
“Thank you for walking us through your thought process on how you ruled out what isn’t responsible,” Verret said. “Perhaps now you might share what you believe is happening—”
“There are several theories—” Grinnd said.
“Cut to the chase,” Terian said. “Most likely culprit.”
Grinnd took another deep breath. “Sea monster, I think.”
There was an air of quiet among the group. “This is your theory?” Verret asked, incredulous. “A sea monster? Some great threat hiding beneath the lapping waves?”
“Yes,” Grinnd said, nodding sagely. “I think that’s it. Some transplanted beast that belongs outside of these caves, in the open water, where the diet can include larger sea life. I think whatever it is that’s doing this, it’s ill suited to this environment and forced to feed on our people because they’re all it has. The fish that live in the outside world cannot survive down here without some specific adaptations—”
“Blather on, man of science,” Verret said. “This is all preposterous.”
“Preposterous as it may sound,” Grinnd said with a light sigh, “I believe a large aquatic creature from one of the freshwater lakes—perhaps even Lake Magnus—has been introduced into the Great Sea, and it’s eating the only thing it can reasonably find to subsist on—the fishermen.”
Verret started to speak again. “This is—”
“Preposterous, yes,” Terian said, stroking his chin. “You’ve said that. Grinnd, assuming you were right, how would we even go about rooting something like this out?”
“We would have to take a fishing trawler out,” Grinnd said, “and attempt to locate the creature—which I suspect would not be hard. It’s doubtless hungry, having not had anything venture out far enough to become fodder for it in a week or more. Once we found it, we would have to kill it—and then preferably bring it back for study—”
“Find it and kill it,” Terian said, his eyes falling on the blackness of the water extending in front of him. “It’s destroyed every boat that’s come its way.”
“None of these fishermen were armed, I should point out,” Grinnd said. “That put them at a significant disadvantage. They were probably plucked and eaten while trying to swim to shore.” He paused. “We’ll need to dispense with our armor in case the boat is destroyed.”
“I like this idea not at all,” Xem said. “Actually, why am I even here? I’m no use at fighting sea monsters. Never done it before. If you need a bit of thieving done, though—”
“We all go,” Terian said, studying the dark waves. It felt as though he could see motion beneath them, as though they were teeming with life just beneath the surface. “No armor, like Grinnd said. It’ll just weigh us down if we end up having to go in. But we carry our weapons, because they’ll be our salvation if we run across this thing.”
“It eats boats,” Bowe Sturrt said from behind Terian. He turned and realized that the druid had been sitting there in a meditative position, legs crossed before him on the docks, his hair stirring as he turned his head to look at Terian. “No wreckage. What can weapons do against such a beast?”
“There aren’t any currents in here,” Grinnd said. “Doubtful it eats the whole boat. Probably enough to reduce it to wreckage, which fails to wash ashore due to the lack of currents.” He blinked, almost embarrassed. “That’s just a theory, though. It’s probably susceptible to magic and blades.”
“‘Probably’ is thin armor with which to gird ourselves,” Sareea said quietly.
“We have a job to do,” Terian said. She’s right. But how can I return t
o my father and tell him I didn’t do this assignment he ordered me to look into because it didn’t seem safe? He almost laughed. Nothing we do is safe. That’s the hallmark of our jobs. “We go. Grinnd, we’ll need a fishing trawler.”
“This kind gentleman has already has volunteered his.” Grinnd nodded at the sea captain he’d been speaking to. The green-robed man bowed. “Though he did emphasize that it’s a very easy craft to steer and row, without any necessity for himself or his crew to come along.”
Terian looked at the green-clad captain, and saw the fear in the man’s eyes as he bowed low again. “Fine, he can stay here. It’s a long cave anyway, it’s not like we’re going anywhere but directly out to sea and back when we’re done.” He glanced around. “Take off your armor if you can’t swim in it, just in case.” His gaze came around to Sareea. “You can stay here if you’d like.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “And give you the opportunity to tell your father that I did not come along on this assignment which he gave to us?” She reached for the clasps that anchored her breastplate to her backplate. “Unlikely.”
“I was just giving you the option,” Terian said, removing his helm. “All right, crew—we’ve got some rowing to do.” He turned his eyes toward the dark waters again. “Best get ready.”
Chapter 30
Terian stood at the fore of the ship. He could almost feel his body shivering in the chill of the cave air. It wasn’t as cold as Reikonos in winter, but he’d grown used to the fires burning in the grates, the heavy blankets when he slept. Sanctuary. I’m thinking about Sanctuary again. He cursed quietly and heard the words echo softly over the black water of the Great Sea.
The sea air was different down here. Musty, with a curious odor to it that reminded him of the smell of his laundered smallclothes when they were drying on the line. The lapping of the waters at the bow of the boat was quiet compared to the grunting of Grinnd, Verret, Sareea and Xem manning the oars. Grinnd was outpacing them all, having taken the whole of the left side to himself and powering the boat with swift, sure strokes.
“All this labor is warming me,” Xem said, mopping his brow with a vek’tag silk handkerchief. He had removed his fine shirt, as had Verret and Grinnd. Sareea sat behind them both, eyes fixed on a point directly ahead, seemingly empty of any interest. She, too, had removed her shirt, which he thought curious. It didn’t feel warm in here to him. But I’ve been gone from this place for so many years that I’ve grown used to the out-of-doors.
Terian tried not to stare at Sareea. None of the others seemed to be giving her much of a look. A bare chest on a woman was an unusual thing in common company. It’s not modest, Terian thought. But a bare chest on a soldier is quite common, and I suspect she’s aiming to play to that angle. His eyes danced over her once and then returned to safer ground. She’s not all that remarkable or different from the men, anyhow, I suppose. Certainly not like the ladies of the brothels with their pushed-up breasts. Probably helps her fit in with the soldiers during training—though I wouldn’t want to cross her.
“Anyone need a break?” Terian asked, looking over them. Dahveed and Bowe waited at the back of the boat, next to the till. Dahveed had his hand on it, steering, a peaceful expression on his face. Bowe had resumed his meditation, eyes closed. “Sareea?” Terian’s eyes found her again as she continued to pull on the heavy oar, working it as her shoulder muscles showed with the effort she put in. “Do you need me to take over for a spell?”
“I’m quite fine, thank you,” she replied, her voice as placid as if he’d asked her if the caves were still cold and dank. Her eyes were unmoving, still on a flat line in front of her, gazing past Xem and Verret in front of her along a straight line.
“I could use a break, now that you mention it,” Xem said, pulling his oar one last time before dragging it back in with a sigh. “Light of the sky, that’s exhausting.”
“I’ll spell you for a bit,” Terian said, making his way down the center aisle separating the benches on the trawler. It was a small boat, only twenty feet long and narrow enough for only one person to sit on the benches on each side—barely. Grinnd was hanging off into the aisle on his side.
Terian made his way to the middle bench, sandwiching himself between Verret in front of him and Sareea behind. He fell into an easy rhythm, pulling at the same time as they did. He glanced at Grinnd to see if the big man was moderating his pace. He was, a pleasant smile on his face as he pulled lazily upon the oar.
Terian found he lost his breath after a few minutes of pulling, the effort working a far different set of muscles than his usual swordplay did. Verret was gasping in front of him, pulling in a frenzied hurry now, sweat trickling down his spine. Terian watched as Verret strained, then strained some more trying to keep up with the pace set by Grinnd. When Terian glanced over to the big warrior, he appeared undisturbed, but his oar was moving with a speed that Terian could scarcely believe.
“All right, that’s it!” Verret slammed his oar down and it rattled across the Great Sea, echoing. “Now you’re just showing off.”
Terian glanced at Grinnd, who appeared startled, as though he’d been jarred awake. “What?”
“Never mind,” Verret said and pulled his oar back into the boat. “Slow down, fool, lest you put us into a slow spin on the water.” He stood and grabbed his shirt, cursing loudly as he stormed toward the back of the boat.
“He seems agitated about something,” Grinnd said, mystified. “I suppose I should go see what’s wrong.”
“That could take a while,” Terian said.
“Hmmm,” Grinnd said with consternation. “I suppose I could sit in the middle of the boat and row both sides …”
“I’ll take over for you,” Sareea said in an empty tone. “We won’t make as much progress, but we won’t drift in slow circles, either.”
“All right,” Grinnd said, and Terian could sense his hesitation. The smell of dank air was heavier now that they were out to sea. “I’ll see if I can assuage his hurt feelings—whatever might have caused them.” The entire boat creaked and rocked as Grinnd made his way toward the stern of the boat.
Terian kept his eyes forward as Sareea took up the seat next to his and began to row. He let his breaths flow in and out as he rowed, ignoring the aches in his arms.
“You’re going to continue to play the game of not looking at me, aren’t you?” Sareea said quietly, but he could hear that familiar amusement.
“Just trying to be polite,” Terian said, keeping his eyes forward. “I wouldn’t stare at Grinnd or Verret with their shirts off.”
“And if you did, we’d all worry you were a deviant,” Sareea said. “Still, I’m not Grinnd or Verret. You can stare if you want. I don’t mind.”
Terian glanced at her, careful to keep his eyes on her face. “I’m fine, thanks.” He turned his head back to face the bow.
“Ooh, it’s almost entertaining to watch you fight your own nature,” she said. “I’ve heard about you.”
“About my fine talent for japes and my finer talent for good conversation?”
“I’ve heard both and I think they need work,” she said. “I’ve heard you’ve visited every cheap whorehouse in the land looking for places to deposit your yearnings.”
“That’s a vicious and ugly rumor, spread by the people who know me best,” Terian said. “So what?”
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Sareea said.
Terian felt a creeping sense that he knew what she was about to say. “Why? Because you’d gladly offer yourself instead?”
Sareea was quiet for a moment. “I see you’ve had this proposal before.”
“Once or twice,” Terian said, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead. “But strangely, I get the feeling that it’s never because of my rugged good looks or sparkling personality.”
“Of course not,” Sareea said. “You could have both of those things and it would be only an added bonus. It’s all about power
.”
Terian stared at the dark horizon, trying to determine where in the muddy bleakness the Great Sea met the cave. He couldn’t see it. “Well, at least you’re honest about that. The flatterers always get my bile.”
“I could be a balm to you,” Sareea said. “Could soothe those aches you need taken care of.” He still did not look at her. “And having a mistress is much more socially acceptable than visiting the whorehouses of Sovar. It’s practically a requirement of polite society.”
“Another fine reason why I dislike our society.”
“Which is a funny line of argument coming from a man who visits whorehouses,” she said.
“An unmarried, unattached man who visits whorehouses.” Terian felt the first stirrings of heat in his cheeks. Maybe it is warm in here. “There’s no one who cares other than the prissy faces of Saekaj social circles who have too much idle time to fill and not enough juicy gossip for their continuous blather.”
“I’m not judging,” Sareea said. “Merely offering a more … palatable alternative.”
“What makes you think I’d find you—” He whirled around to look at her and found her turned to face him, her oar on the ground and her bare chest right there to greet him. “… palatable?” Well, that’s not bad.
She waited a moment before responding. “I think you’d find me … energetic. A worthy consort for the Heir of Lepos.”
He turned back to his oar, picked it up and continued rowing, but with more fervor this time. He could feel the slight breeze on his face from the motion of the boat. He heard Sareea mimic his motion across the aisle. “I think I’d find myself quite ill at the notion of being socially acceptable at the cost of being with a woman who has no interest in me.”
Thy Father's Shadow (Book 4.5) Page 17