by Alan Black
He took a deep breath, trying to relax the turmoil in the pit of his stomach.
“I’m at an impasse. Maybe I should check with Gadon and the others. Yes, maybe that’s a good idea. There’s safety in a multitude of councilors. They’re smart, they’ll give me good advice.”
Tanden stood still and watched, like his boots were stuck in a rock.
The eastern sky was dark. He needed to be back aboard the fishing boat before dawn. Shaking his head, he was about to begin making his way back to the harbor, when he saw a familiar man stagger from the tavern. The man stumbled and caught himself, banging a bandaged hand against the wall. He stood upright, moaning and cradling his hand.
Tanden plainly heard Obert’s whiny voice, “Slut. Got what she deserved. Cut me, the witch. Should have buggered her and tossed her overboard.” The man giggled. “Would have been cheaper than what we got tonight. That son of a bitch, Tuba! He took her twice. Oughta go back and get what’s mine.”
At the corner of the tavern, Obert stepped to the edge of an alley. Weaving about, the drunken man dropped his trousers to his knees and with a loud sigh, began urinating against the building wall. He started to sing a tune only he could recognize.
Tanden took one step toward the man and froze. A soldier that Tanden had not seen, stepped from a doorway. The small, blue circle sewn over his heart stood out starkly against the gloss of his black leather tunic. A second soldier walked casually down the street. They converged on Obert from opposite directions. A pair of hands reached out from the darkness behind Obert jerking the drunken man backward into the shadows. Tanden heard a muffled cry and then silence.
A few thumps and the squeak of a dry axle preceded two men in uniform casually pushing a cart out of the alley. The contents of the cart were covered by a tarp. The size of the lump under the tarp was an approximate match for Obert’s body. The soldiers pushed the cart toward the wharf.
Tanden agreed that the harbor was as good a place to dump the body as any. One more dead sailor would not cause Stantinstadt’s citizens to raise their voices in concern. Tanden agreed with the citizens. The soldiers saved Tanden time and effort.
Two more blue order soldiers stepped from the alley shadows. One pointed directly at the narrow passageway hiding Tanden before stepping back into the dark. The second man nodded and leisurely started walking toward Tanden. The outline of a plan raced through Tanden’s thoughts. When the soldier reached the middle of the street, Tanden staggered into the dim light, turning to search behind him like he was looking for the offending rock that caused his stumble. Turning back around, he bumped into the soldier.
“Drunken fool.” The man pushed Tanden sending him reeling across the street.
Tanden slurred his words drunkenly and said, “‘Scuse me, frien’.”
He steered an unsteady course to the tavern door the late Obert had recently exited. Stepping through the door, he quickly closed it behind him as he moved to the right.
The tavern was dimly lit and the air was dank, but the light was better inside than on the dark streets. Tanden spotted another member of his mutinous crew. The man sat with his head propped in his hands, elbows on the table, and his back to the door. He was mumbling into a mug set before him, talking to himself. A mug lay on its side in front of an empty chair across the table. A bowl of hard bread and cheese sat in the center.
The only other customer was snoring with his head on the table. The tavern keeper, a large balding man with a huge belly had his hand deep in the pocket of the sleeper. He glared at Tanden, while patting a small wooden club stuck prominently in a pocket with his free hand. The drunk would most likely wake up in an alley with no money and a headache as a reward for drinking alone. Any man foolish enough to drink alone in a strange city was headed for trouble, whether he was robbed by a tavern keeper or roving gangs of children.
Tanden shrugged, brought his hand to his lips in a drinking motion and pointed to the seat across from his ex-crewman. He sat down on the seat Obert had probably vacated. He quietly watched the other man whose eyes never left the rim of his mug.
The tavern keeper delivered a pitcher to the table, silently rubbing his thumb and forefinger together in the universal gesture for payment. Tanden pointed to the coins scattered on the table near the other man.
The tavern keeper nodded, set the pitcher down on the table, and scooped up all the coins. Tanden had not counted the money, but he was sure the man had just collected the price of many full pitchers. The tavern keeper picked up the empty mug, filled it with dark red liquid, and set it firmly in front of Tanden. He splashed half a mug of wine into the other man’s mug. The tavern keeper’s eyes challenged Tanden. When Tanden refused to react, the man left, taking the pitcher with him.
Tanden took a sip of the wine. The drink was little better than vinegar, but actually better than he expected to find in such a dump. He selected a small hunk of hard bread from the bowl in the middle of the table. Dipping the bread in the wine, he chewed slowly, watching the man across the table.
The man continued staring at his mug oblivious to his surroundings, mumbling to himself, chuckling occasionally, and weaving unsteadily in his chair. Suddenly he reared his head back to laugh and saw Tanden sitting across from him. He choked back the laugh as the color drained from his face.
Tanden smiled sweetly, raising his glass to the man. “To your health, Tuba.”
Tuba stared at Tanden, his head wobbling slightly.
“Well, Tuba. Don’t you have anything to say to your former captain?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Tuba said, “Spirits an’ ghosts! I may have helped tossin’ Tanden into the sea to drown, but good spirit, I haven’ done nothin’ to you.”
Tanden nodded. “Are you sure?”
Tuba slammed his hand flat on the table, “Spirit, I’m as sure as I’m drunk. You’re the firs’ spirit I’ve ever drunk drink wit’. To your health, Spirit.” Tuba lifted his mug to his lips, spilling more down the front of his tunic than he swallowed. He belched loudly and set his mug down, missing the table entirely.
“Well?” said Tuba.
“Well, what?”
Tuba giggled, “Well what’re you gone do to me? Are you here to kill me because…” His voice grew to a whisper, “Because I mutinied against Tanden and helped to kill him?”
Tanden whispered back, “It’s a secret. The six gods liked that part. They laughed when you tossed him and that woman into the sea.”
Tuba roared, “Ha! I knew it, even the gods didna like that arrogan’ bastard or the easterly bitch.”
Tanden put his finger to his lips, shushing the man, “Tuba, I’ve been sent by the gods to rescue you, but first you must tell me about the others and Lady Yasthera il-Aldigg.”
“Rescue me? Why would anyone wan’ to hurt me?”
Tanden leaned close to him and said, “Gregin works for other gods. My gods are jealous gods. Gregin wants to keep what you did a secret. He’ll kill you to keep you silent.”
Tuba said, “Slimy bastard. Paid me only ‘nough to get a few drinks and to toss off a whore. Hadda whole ship full of money but wouldn’ give me enough to even get home. Heraclius and Greeta decided to go to Tunston. They got to stay on the ship, but that cheap pile of dog dung threw me and Obert off the White Wind. Didn’ I help take her? Don’t I deserve a full share of cargo?”
Tanden nodded in sympathy, “Yes, the gods aren’t happy with Gregin. They want you to be rich and happy. But first, you must tell me about the woman.”
Tuba looked suspicious and said, “Why? Wait. Are you sure you’re really here?”
Tanden smiled, “Of course, I’m here. Where else would I be? Tuba, the gods want you to have all of Gregin’s money because they like a good story. Tell them about the woman.”
Tuba chuckled, “We fixed ‘em good, Obert and me. Gregin had his soldiers haul her off for safe keeping at one of his blue wizard’s convents.” Tuba pointed a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the
brothel a few doors down the street.
Tanden nodded his understanding. Many of the blue convents and schools were nothing more than ill-disguised brothels collecting money for the blue order in Tunston. “Keep talking,” he prodded.
Tuba said, “Gregin wouldna let us touch her on the ship. So, I wanted to give her what for. Teach her what it was like to be with a real man.” He grabbed his crotch and pumped his hand up and down. “Best thing she ever had. Well, me an’ Obert followed ‘em. The snooty priest running the place said she was for a rich man. Too good for the likes of us. Said we didn’t have the money for both of us to have her.”
Tuba stopped talking and sat quietly smiling.
Tanden prompted, “And?”
Tuba said, “An’ Obert gave me his money. The priest let me in. The man was a fool, ‘cuz I went in an opened a window for Obert to crawl in. I had her good. She liked it ‘cuz she didn’ scream or nothin’. Just lay there and took us both. I was so good it brought tears to her eyes, but I tell you, Spirit, that Obert ain’t much of a man. He couldn’ get it up a second time. Stupid priest, we had her three times for the price of once.”
Tuba hesitated and said, “Ho here! Where’s Obert?”
Tanden said, “I’m the messenger of the six gods and Obert wouldn’t listen to me. Gregin’s soldiers have already killed him, probably on Gregin’s orders.”
Tuba’s eyes grew wild and he made to stand. Tanden put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down in his chair. The man reached for his mug. He found it laying on the floor with the remains of the wine soaking into the dirt between the flagstones.
Tuba said sadly, “Another vessel sunk to the bottom.”
Tanden took a small swallow from his mug and handed it to the sailor. “Drink up.” As Tuba tilted the mug back, Tanden leaned in closer. “Listen, Tuba. I’m a spirit from the gods. No one can see me, but you, and when you’re with me, no one can see you, but me. Gregin’s soldiers are waiting for you in the street, but we can walk past them arm-in-arm and they won’t be able to touch you, if you stay with me. Do you understand?”
Tuba nodded, “Le’s go. I need ta sleep.” He deliberately dropped the mug next to the one on the floor and chuckled as they clattered together.
Tanden stood and wrapped an arm around the drunken sailor, navigating him through the door and into the street. Knowing where to look, Tanden easily spotted the two soldiers hiding in the shadows.
Tuba began chanting, “Can’ see me. Can’ see me.”
The two men staggered and stumbled into the middle of the street, Tanden chanting and stumbling along with Tuba. Tanden kept steering the drunken sailor to the middle of the street, even when one of the soldiers stepped into the light.
Tuba stuck his tongue out at the soldier and said, “Can’ see me.”
Tanden watched the soldiers out of the corner of one eye. Two soldiers conferred for a moment, then followed Tanden and Tuba at a distance. Tanden smiled, knowing that if these soldiers were like others he had met, they would be inclined to wait for a dark alley before attacking, so they simply followed what appeared to be two drunken sailors heading in the direction they would have to haul the body anyway.
Tanden would have help dealing with the soldiers if he could reach the Wave Master before they attacked. For his newly formed plan to work, he needed both soldiers to continue following them.
Dawn was coming and the eastern sky was turning light as Tanden and Tuba approached the wharf. Tanden estimated this part of the docks would soon come alive with men returning to their fishing boats to ride the morning tides out to their fishing spots. The soldiers would not want an audience. Tuba grew quiet. Tanden was almost dragging him as they hurried along trying to stay ahead of the soldiers.
Tanden realized they probably would not reach the Wave Master before the soldiers attacked. He could hear the soldiers behind him, rushing forward to take them. Suddenly, a figure stepped from the shadows to block his path. Tanden pushed Tuba into the man and spun around to face the soldiers to his rear. He saw no one. He crouched defensively and whipped a knife from the sheath in his boot.
Tanden stood at the sound of Gadon’s voice from behind him, “And what do you want me to do with this flaccid piece of pig dick?”
Tanden interrupted, “Soldiers coming. Quick.”
Gadon snorted, “Easy. You’d think no one has any brains, but you.”
Tanden looked again and saw no soldiers on the dock, just a couple of fishermen coming down the wharf.
Gadon complained, “Here I come to greet you and welcome you back to the boat after a hard night of work and what do I get? You toss this vomitous mass of putrid bile at me. That’s gratitude for you. Or did you bring this to me so I get the pleasure of cutting his throat?”
Tanden said, “Alive. I need him alive—for now.”
Gadon dropped Tuba to the dock and smiled as the man’s head made a satisfactory thump on the wood planks. He looked at Tanden and shook his head, “Of course, you need him alive. Do I look like a newborn babe? Am I a white-haired, doddering, old idiot? You wouldn’t have dragged him this far if you meant to kill him. Oh, will I never be appreciated in this life?” He rolled his eyes upward as if imploring understanding from the heavens.
Tanden rescanned the docks and turned back to Gadon. “I thank you for coming to greet me. As always, my friend, you are a welcome sight.”
Tuller spoke from behind Tanden, “And what of Seenger and me? We do all the hard work and old round bottom gets all of the praise?”
Gadon said, “Old! Who are you calling old, you young pup?”
Tanden said, “I’m glad to see all of you.” He gave a few brief instructions to Tuller and Seenger, then turned to Gadon and said, “Let’s get Tuba out of sight. I have some questions to ask him.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Tanden gripped Tuba’s hair, pushing his head into a cold bucket of seawater. He could feel the man awaken and pulled his head out of the bucket—holding his face away from him as Tuba sputtered, gasping in the air. Pushing the man’s head underwater again, he held it there for a moment before yanking him up for air.
Most of the fishing vessels had departed with the morning sun. A few boats remained, floating lazily about in the water with a man or two repairing sails or nets. Tanden had ordered the mainsail removed from the mast and spread out over the deck. He set Tuller to pretending to sew. Gadon, Seenger, and I-Sheera sat out of sight in the shade beneath the sail. It would not fool any close inspection, but too many people sitting around would generate suspicion.
The fishing boat docked next to the Wave Master had not sailed this morning. Four men had started to re-string and mend their nets. Their work masked much of the activity on the Wave Master from view along this section of the port. All four men stopped working to watch Tanden with curiosity. By their dress and speech, Tanden knew them to be eastern followers of the red order with no desire for drink and little tolerance for men who did.
Tanden spoke to the men in Eastern, “Drunkard.”
The men nodded. That one word spoke volumes to them. The eldest man smiled at Tanden and said in Geldonite, “He’s a fool then. Is he worth the effort to revive? Throw him to the fishes and be done with him.”
Tanden pushed Tuba’s head underwater again and spoke to the old fisherman in Eastern. “He’s also a thief. I would like know what he has done with what he stole.”
The old man answered, “You speak the true language well, for one not born in our country.”
Tanden said, “Thank you, good sir. It is a beautiful tongue and one worthy of the many wise men your people have produced.”
The old man pointed at Tuba and the bucket.
Tanden said, “Yes, I thank you.” He yanked the man up for air again.
Tuba gasped and coughed trying to clear his throat of seawater.
Tanden flopped the man over the rail and held him head down as the man vomited into the sea.
One of the young eastern
fishermen plucked at his father’s tunic sleeve, “Father.” The youth nodded up the wharf. A half dozen uniformed blue soldiers marched along the dock.
The old man hissed an order.
The young man vaulted the space between the two ships and quickly sat down on the edge of the sail aboard the Wave Master. He spread a small net around his lap, his fingers flying, twisting, and tying knots. His action pushed the cloth sail to the deck, holding it down. He blocked all view of Gadon, Seenger, and I-Sherra sitting in its shade.
The man in charge of the soldiers called out in Tunstonian to the two ships.
Tanden turned to the old fisherman, asking in Eastern, “What does he say, good father?”
Another soldier shouted out in Eastern, “You ignorant buffoon. He asks if you have seen two of our men.”
The old fisherman replied in Eastern, “As you can see, unmagic one, my sons and I are mending our nets. Praise be to the Red Wizard, we mind our own business. We’re not blind men. I can truly say your kind stands out among hardworking men.”
The soldier translated this into Tunstonian for the leader of the group. Even if Tanden didn’t speak Tunstonian, he would have easily seen both men misunderstood the easterner’s comment, mistaking his insult for a compliment. The leader nodded and waved for the old man to continue speaking, using a gesture normally reserved for royalty acknowledging a minor servant.
The old man smiled and continued, “Praise be to the flame and fire, I haven’t seen such as you on these docks for many days. My sons?” One by one, he looked at his children who responded in Eastern. Each repeated that he had not seen any soldiers. They directed their answers to the old man, not the soldiers.
The old man looked at Tanden and said in Eastern, “And you, my cousin? Have you seen any soldiers this morning?”
Tanden answered the old man, “Good father. I haven’t seen any uniformed soldier on this dock this morning except for these who stand here now.”