Dynasty of Rogues

by Jane Fletcher

  “Come in. I’ll get her out of the lockup for you.”

  As soon as she was inside, the short woman raised her voice. “Oi, Pat. You there?”

  “Yeah.” A voice answered indistinctly from the lockup.

  “What the fucking hell you doing down here?”

  “Weren’t my fault.”

  “It never is. Hey, Officer?”

  Corporal Delores had the key off her belt and was inserting it in the lock. “Yeah?”

  “Why was she bought all the way down here? What sort of fucking game was it? I thought someone was having a laugh when they told me.”

  “Somebody wanted to talk to her.”

  “What frigging nutter was that?”

  Delores faced the short woman. “It was the Consultant at the temple. And if you don’t want to join your sister in the lockup you should watch your mouth.”

  “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t know.”

  Corporal Delores stood in the open doorway. Currently the cell held two occupants. The sailor who had been carried in after a heavy lunchtime drinking session was still sleeping, curled in a corner. Her rasping snores continued unbroken. The Militiawoman glanced at her. She was the usual run of patron for the Southwater lockup. Most likely the drunken sailor would stay there until the ship’s captain bailed her out in time to depart.

  Oduro was a different matter. Something about her did not fit, and that worried Delores. She had no idea why the Consultant had wanted to talk to the woman, and she did not want to know. Oduro acted and spoke like a common thug, yet her eyes moved with a sharp intelligence. In the six days she had been in the lockup, she had given no information about her family, friends, or job, and that was unusual. Most women of her type talked nonstop. Some needed threats to make them shut up. Delores sensed nasty secrets lurking, and the sooner the woman was gone, the better.

  “Okay, Oduro. You can come out.”

  The prisoner emerged, blinking in the light of the main room.

  “By the Goddess, look at you. What a fucking state. Did you go out in your best clothes?” the sister crowed.

  “Sort of.”

  “Well they ain’t anything to talk about now.”

  “Weren’t my fault. The lockup’s a pig sty.”

  “You’re the stupid pig.”

  An argument was clearly about to break out. Corporal Delores cut in. “You can squabble about clothes all the way back to Landfall if you want. I need your prints on this and then you can both get out of my station.”

  Oduro grunted sullenly and stumbled to the desk in the corner. Delores laid the paper and the inkpad before her and watched her put her release fingerprints in the bottom right hand boxes. By the rules, the releasing officer was supposed to check the match using an eyeglass. Delores settled for squinting in the last of the fading sunlight. The match looked close enough. In fact, she did not care whether it was or not. She wanted the two sisters gone before a fight started.

  “Can she go now?” the small sister asked. Oduro just stood, scowling.

  “Yeah. The pair of you. Shove off.”

  “Come on, Pat.”

  The sisters disappeared into the street, but their voices could still be heard.

  “I don’t know why I frigging bother with you.”

  “Weren’t my fault.”

  Corporal Delores shut the door and returned to her chair. Things were back to normal and already she was feeling happier. The peace of the Southwater Militia station was broken only by snores from the drunken sailor in the lockup. Smiling, Jay Delores lifted her feet onto the desk and closed her eyes.

  *

  Devishi Tang lifted her brandy glass and swirled the amber liquid around. The rich, sweet aroma was nearly as satisfying as the taste, but not quite. She took a sip and sighed with contentment. It was good to be off the road and back to the comforts of the Coppelli mansion.

  The sun was now low in the sky, and the enclosed courtyard was in shade, pleasant after the heat of the day. The air was full of the scent of flowers and the sound of splashing water from the fountain. Devishi hooked her ankle around the leg of another chair and pulled it forward to use as a footstool. She took a second sip of brandy and smiled at her grandmother.

  “I was amazed Bakara went as far as paying me money to keep quiet.”

  “Yes. That was a pleasant surprise. To tell the truth, I wasn’t sure she would even decide to hide the story from me. On one level, it wouldn’t have made too much difference. But I’m pleased with how it’s turned out. It means she’s making her own plans to deal with Zelenski.”

  “Any idea what those plans are likely to be?”

  “She’s going to have the colonel killed, of course.”

  Devishi pursed her lips thoughtfully. She was surprised not by the casual way her grandmother treated the topic of violent death—such things were hardly a rare occurrence in the unforgiving world of Landfall politics—but that the Chief Consultant should be the one employing the tactic.

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “Oh yes. Bakara believes Zelenski stole incriminating documents, used them to bully and blackmail her, deliberately defied her orders, and then double-crossed her. She’s going to think Zelenski is totally out of control. And Bakara’s going to want her out of the way before she causes more trouble. Remember, they didn’t even start out as allies.”

  “Killing Zelenski seems a bit extreme. Although it will cheer a lot of people up.” Devishi knew her words were an understatement. The head of the Intelligence Corps was hated across the Homelands.

  “It’s the best way to make sure that nobody else ever gets to hear what Bakara thinks Zelenski has found out. It’s just Zelenski’s tough luck that Bakara is blaming her for all sorts of things that she hasn’t done”—Isabel paused, frowning—“yet.”

  “Yet? You think she will?”

  “Zelenski is shrewd enough to unravel our plot, given time, and she doesn’t give up. She’ll dig down to the truth. And once she gets there, she could be very dangerous. Fortunately for us, she isn’t going to get the time.” Isabel turned her face to the fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Her expression showed no trace of concern or regret.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Very. If Bakara was planning some other fate for Zelenski, she’d have brought me in to help. Whether she’s consciously aware of it or not, the reason she paid you to keep quiet was so it would be a private matter between her and the Goddess.”

  “I was expecting the Chief Consultant to be a bit more”—Devishi waved her free hand, hunting for the word she wanted—“forgiving, unworldly.”

  “Don’t be misled by all their talk of love. If there’s one lesson you should take from this, it’s that the Sisterhood and the Guards are the most dangerous enemies you can have, because they can always convince themselves the Goddess wants them to do whatever it is they’re doing. They see compromise as a betrayal of their faith.”

  “An all-or-nothing game?”

  “Indeed.” Isabel reached out and plucked a bloom from a nearby bush. “If someday you come to sit in my place and play games with the Sisterhood, make sure you have every step charted and know exactly where you’re going to end up. If you can’t guarantee being on the winning side, then throw in your hand before the stakes get too high.”

  “At the moment, I’m still taking lessons from the best player in Landfall.” Devishi smiled at her grandmother. “You worked it all out very neatly. Tanya is free, but the Sisters think the Corps have got her, the Corps think the Sisters have, and Zelenski will be gone before anyone gets the chance to swap notes. The Chief Consultant is further indebted to the family. And between them, they’ve paid us one thousand four hundred and sixty dollars.”

  Isabel Coppelli raised the flower to her nose and inhaled the scent, while her eyes danced in amusement. “Oh yes. It never hurts to turn in a profit.”

  *

  High tide was covering the marshland. Only the tips of reeds and the tallest sand bank
s broke the surface of the water. The sun was setting behind the temple, casting a golden glow over the waves. Thin bands of purple cloud lined the horizon. From the activity on the decks of two seagoing ships, it was plain that they were preparing to set sail on the high water.

  Tanya trekked down to the harbor beside Riki, savoring the simple action of walking under the open sky without Guards around her or her hands bound. She was out of prison. She was free. She could relax—almost.

  Tanya knew Riki would have arranged passage for them and had deliberately left getting her out of the lockup until the last possible moment. The Intelligence Corps had assuredly followed them to Southwater. Colonel Zelenski would not have given up on her so easily. Grandma Izzy had thought the Corps would not hang around for long, once the Sisters and Devishi left, but there was always a risk they had left an agent in place.

  Even though the lengthy stay in the lockup had not been pleasant, the less time she was on the streets of Southwater, the less chance of being spotted. Who thinks of reporting someone already in a lockup? If she and Riki could just get onto the ship and have it cast off, she could feel truly safe, but not until then. Tanya clamped her jaw as the fears resurfaced. Surely she would not fail now. Her eyes drifted to the reed beds. If anything went wrong, she would throw herself in the water. She would rather drown in quicksand than return to the Corps dungeon.

  Tanya’s gaze touched briefly on Riki, strolling next to her. Abruptly, Tanya’s pulse rate soared and it had nothing to do with fear. Riki was all spark and audacity. Tanya could feel the energy radiating off her. Riki’s head and shoulders were back, her bearing nine-tenths swagger. Her grin showed an utter lack of concern for the Guards, the Corps, the Sisters, or the rest of the world. It was not just a façade of bravado. Tanya had come to realize it went far deeper. Yet surely Riki’s heart was not untouchable. If the devil-may-care rebel could be made to care, what expression would Riki’s face hold in the heat of passion?

  Tanya caught her breath even as a crooked flagstone made her stumble. She had to concentrate. Falling over would be an idiotic blunder when she was trying to avoid attention.

  They reached the gangplank to one ship readying for departure. A sailor on deck waved to Riki. “You found her, then.”

  “Propping up a bar, like I said,” Riki called back.

  The sailor laughed and returned to coiling her rope. Riki strolled up the gangplank. Tanya followed, reaching the deck, leaving Southwater.

  “I stored our stuff over there.” Riki pointed to a couple of bags. “Do you want to grab a clean shirt?”

  Tanya considered what she was wearing. Grandma Izzy had provided new clothes in Landfall. The outfit selected for the evening the Corps reclaimed her had been chosen to look suitably costly for a Coppelli scion when clean in the temple, and suitably inconspicuous after two weeks in a cell when on the Southwater docks.

  “I think I’m okay. What do you think?”

  Riki gave her a serious appraisal. “You’re right. You’ll attract less attention as you are, rather than if you start stripping off.”

  Tanya’s pulse leapt again as Riki’s eyes swept up and down her. Her knees felt wobbly. She pointed to a low crate on the seaward side. “I’m going to sit down.”

  “Okay.”

  Tanya staggered over and collapsed. Even before she was settled, she heard a wooden clattering as the gangplank was hauled in. Either Riki’s timing was perfect, or the crew had been waiting for them.

  Tanya raised her eyes. Sailors were climbing through rigging overhead, loosening sails. She felt the ship sway. Steadily the movement became more pronounced. The ship rode a soft wind, carrying them out to sea. Tanya looked back. Already ten meters of water separated the ship from the harbor wall.

  They had left Southwater.

  She was free.

  The ship drifted on, slow and sedate, down the channel between sandbanks, moving into deeper water. Tanya looked back. The temple crouched atop the rocky island, overshadowing the town like the Sisterhood overshadowed the Homelands. Yet already it was fading into the dusk.

  She was free.

  Tanya’s gaze moved back to the boat. On the other side of the deck, Riki was laughing with a sailor. Tanya remembered her grandmother’s words. She is a troublemaker, and she’ll always be making trouble for someone.

  Riki was making trouble for her at the moment—the most pleasant type of trouble. Yet Tanya knew it could lead her into making a complete fool of herself. They had been enemies in Westernfort. Tanya no longer felt that way, but how did Riki feel about her? Despite their daily meetings, they had never shared a private conversation. Always the Sister on duty had been watching, an inhibiting presence, even if she could not overhear what was said.

  Supposing Riki got bored on the journey and wanted to stir things up. Without Guards as a target, there would be no one else to annoy. Was Riki about to revert to being a pain in the ass? Riki had said she was on Tanya’s side. Did that still apply? Would she want to hold hands again?

  Tanya groaned and closed her eyes. I’ve got to get a grip, she told herself. Her head and heart were all over the place. They had a long trip ahead together, without anyone else as distraction. Tanya took a deep breath, unsure whether the ripples inside her were due to worry or expectation.

  Unexpectedly, a laugh bubbled up inside her. Oh yes. She was certainly free, if such trivial matters were the main thing on her mind. Tanya opened her eyes and looked from Riki to the temple, fading into the dark, and then back to Riki.

  She was free.

  Part Three

  Homecoming

  Chapter Fifteen—Into The Wildlands

  The coastline was an undulating red band of striated sandstone cliffs, laced with a ragged tracery of trees at the top and a white fringe of surf at the bottom. Riki leaned against the ship’s railing, watching kilometer after kilometer slip by. Overhead, a stiff breeze was filling the sails. The prow sliced through blue-green waves, sending up plumes of salt spray that glittered in the sunlight.

  The marshy lowlands around Southwater were four days behind as they reached the midway point on the journey to Coldmouth. The ship’s route had rarely strayed more than ten kilometers from the shore, and never out of sight of it, except for the morning they had awoken to a dense sea fog. The sailors had taken in the sails until the sun had burnt off the mist and they could again see where they were going. The captain had maps, as well as star charts for guidance, but the coast was the surest navigational aid.

  Riki turned and rested her back against the rail. On the other side of the ship was nothing but sea. How far did it go? What land would you reach if you kept sailing due south? Nobody knew, but someday, someone would go to find out. Riki smiled. The thought of adventure was exciting, discovering places no woman had ever seen before, but she would not be the one who sailed off over the horizon. Her discoveries would be made on foot. She was a Ranger, not a sailor.

  Riki’s smile faded. Was she still a Ranger? If she had stayed in Westernfort for the trial, a dishonorable discharge would hardly have been necessary, although Captain Coppelli might have insisted on it for administrative reasons. Had she been formally discharged in her absence? Not that it mattered. Once Tanya told her story, a full reinstatement would be a certainty. Riki chewed her lip. Should she accept it? Was that what she wanted?

  With hindsight, joining the Rangers had not been a wise move. She was never going to fit in with obeying orders—not when breaking rules was so much more fun. Isabel Coppelli had offered her a job. The idea was tempting. Riki had loved every second of outmaneuvering Colonel Zelenski. Perhaps she could really take over the role once fulfilled by Jean Azid.

  Riki’s plans went as far as getting to Ginasberg, speaking with her mother, telling what she had learned from Jan, and then apologizing for all the years of being an utter little shit. Once she had done that, what reason would she have to stay with the heretics? Yet if she went, would she miss the wilderness unbearably? What did she
want to do with her life? Riki sighed. Half-worked-out schemes bounced around in her head, but she was nowhere close to reaching any conclusion.

  The sound of laughter drew Riki’s attention back to the ship. Tanya was on the aft deck, chatting with the other passengers. The conversation was obviously amusing and friendly. Tanya was sprawled casually, propped on one elbow, with a smile lighting her face. Riki felt a sudden tense knot squeeze her stomach. She wished she knew what Tanya thought of her. Even more than plans for the future, this had been scrambling Riki’s head.

  The ship was small, less than twenty meters long, with a crew of five and two other passengers on board. All space below deck was taken up with cargo. The crew and passengers slept on deck, with only the awning for shelter. In the hot summer nights and the absence of rain, this was no hardship. However, it meant that she and Tanya were unable to talk without risk of being overheard, nor would they, until they disembarked.

  Once they reached Coldmouth, acquired ponies and supplies, and headed off into the Wildlands, then there would be just the two of them together for thirty to forty days. They would be able to talk all they wanted. What was she going to say to Tanya? And what would Tanya say to her?

  The tension in Riki’s guts tightened. For the first time since she and her mother had fled the Homelands, she would be spending time in close contact with someone her own age who just conceivably thought that she was okayish. Riki fixed her eyes on the horizon. Could she remember how to conduct a normal, pleasant conversation?

  And of course, it was not merely a conversation she wanted from Tanya—or maybe it was. Riki winced, exasperated with herself. Her emotions were taking her into unknown territory. Her reputation as the town’s bad girl had ensured that. Fewer than a dozen girls within three years of her age had lived at Ginasberg, and all were either too frightened or too disapproving to associate with her. Riki had been the outsider, taunted, demonized, or ignored.