Prince of the Blood, the King's Buccaneer

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Prince of the Blood, the King's Buccaneer Page 95

by Raymond E. Feist


  Sea Chase

  THE LOOKOUT SHOUTED.

  ‘Ship ahoy!’

  Nicholas disentangled himself from the Ranjana’s interminable protestations of undying love, and shouted, ‘Where away?’

  ‘Dead astern.’

  He put his hand urgently on the girl’s chest and shoved her away with enough force that her maids had to catch her to keep her from falling. He raced to the stern and climbed to the quarterdeck, then scanned the horizon. After a moment he saw a tiny black speck.

  ‘Mr Pickens,’ he said, ‘how long to put ashore the boatmen and mercenaries?’

  The first mate scanned the shore and said, ‘If we heave to, an hour or more, but if we slow to a crawl, and lose a jolly boat, fifteen minutes.’

  Nicholas indicated all those upon the deck. ‘Can we get all of those into a boat?’

  ‘Not and have it stay afloat in the surf, Captain. Three trips, four would be better.’

  Nicholas swore. ‘How long before that ship’s here?’

  ‘Hard to say,’ said the sailor. ‘If it’s the ship that tried to intercept us night before last, about an hour. If it’s something else …’ He let the thought go unfinished.

  ‘Right.’ Nicholas made a decision. ‘Make ready to stand to, Mr Pickens.’ To those on the lower deck he shouted, ‘Get ready to put a jolly boat over the side!’

  Sailors hurried to unlimber one of the large boats lashed upside down over the rear hatch cover. A boom was swung over and the boat was quickly raised, moved to just over the side, and then lowered. The boatmen and mercenaries who were the most anxious to leave scampered down a pair of rope ladders, with two sailors. When they were in the boat, they rowed furiously toward the shore, and Nicholas watched with concern as they entered the combers, then shot the breakers to the beach. Two of the boatmen helped launch the boat back into the water, and the two sailors pulled hard to get the boat through the breakers.

  ‘This is taking too long,’ said Nicholas as he glanced to where the pursuing ship was growing larger on the horizon. The boat reached the side of the Eagle, and the second batch of boatmen and mercenaries scampered down.

  As the jolly boat reached the beach, the lookout called, ‘Captain, I see her colors!’

  Nicholas looked at the approaching ship and saw that she carried a black sail. ‘What ensign?’ he called.

  ‘She flies a black flag with a golden serpent.’

  Praji called up, ‘She’s the Overlord’s.’

  Nicholas stared hard at the approaching ship and the angle of her movement. ‘Mr Pickens, I’m no deep-water veteran, but I’d say that ship is moving against the wind.’

  The sailor studied her for a minute, and said, ‘Yes, Captain. You’re not a veteran, but she is indeed moving against the wind.’

  A moment later, the lookout cried, ‘Captain, she mounts a ram on her bow!’

  ‘War galley. She can ignore the wind and row straight at us,’ said Nicholas. ‘I never saw one in the harbor.’

  Praji shouted up from the main deck, ‘The Overlord has a private pond fed by the estuary; he keeps his own fleet there.’

  ‘Some pond,’ said Ghuda.

  ‘That’s the Overlord’s droman,’ said Praji. ‘Two banks of oars a side, and a ram and boarding bridge on the bow. She mounts a catapult on the sterncastle and a ballista before the mast, too.’

  ‘Make ready to sail, Mr Pickens,’ ordered Nicholas. ‘I’m not letting that bitch get close enough to fire on us.’ He moved to the rail overlooking the main deck and shouted down, ‘When the jolly boat’s alongside, put the Ranjana and her maids off, and whoever else will fit, and the rest of you will have to swim. We are leaving.’

  Marcus glanced around and said, ‘Nicholas, the girl. She’s not here.’

  ‘Find her!’ shouted Nicholas. ‘We have no time for her silliness!’

  Marcus hurried back toward the girls’ cabin, and when the jolly boat was again next to the ship, the last of the boatmen and two mercenaries hurried down the ladder. Shouts erupted from the cabin below the quarterdeck, and Calis and Ghuda hurried to investigate. A squirming, kicking, biting, scratching Ranjana was being hauled out by Marcus, while Brisa, Abigail, and Margaret herded the maids behind her. ‘Give her some gold to buy her way home, and put her over the side!’ commanded Nicholas.

  ‘I will not go home!’ shrieked the girl, doing her best to claw her way out of Marcus’s grip. ‘The Rahajan will kill me!’

  ‘So much for undying love,’ said Brisa, glancing at Margaret with a wicked grin.

  A shout from the jolly boat and splashes in the water caused a sailor to look over the side. ‘Captain,’ he called, ‘the mercenaries have taken the jolly boat.’

  Two more of Praji’s mercenaries looked over the rail and shouted, then climbed up and leaped into the water after the fleeing boat. ‘Should we put another boat over, Captain?’ asked Pickens.

  Looking at the war galley as it began to draw down on the Eagle, Nicholas said, ‘No, there’s no time.’

  Marcus shouted, ‘Should I pitch her over the side?’

  The girl screamed, ‘No! I cannot swim! I’ll drown!’

  Nicholas threw his hands up in resignation and said, ‘No. Put her down.’ Making a noise of unalloyed aggravation, he said, ‘Get us out of here, Mr Pickens. Full sail!’

  ‘Make ready on all sheets and shrouds!’ cried the first mate. ‘Raise anchor.’

  Slowly at first, the Eagle moved forward, then, as her sails billowed and she caught the wind, she moved through the water like a dolphin.

  Nicholas looked at the pursuing ship and asked, ‘Are they close enough to fire on us?’

  As if in answer, a fireball arced from the deck of the droman and landed with a hissing splash a dozen yards abaft the ship. Calmly Pickens said, ‘Well, let’s just hope we don’t run out of wind before they run out of muscle.’

  Across the water, Nicholas could hear the faint sound of the drum used to set the pace for the rowers. Turning his back on the other ship, Nicholas said, ‘They can’t hold attack speed very long. The slaves will begin fainting at the oars.’

  Pickens nodded. ‘They’ve still got their own sail, Captain.’

  Nicholas looked back again, as the evil-looking black and gold sail billowed in the wind. ‘They can’t overtake us with wind.’

  ‘No, Captain, but they could stay close enough to give us serious trouble if the wind dies.’

  ‘Then pray for a strong wind, Mr Pickens. We’ve a long way to home.’

  ‘Aye, Captain.’

  Nicholas went back to the main deck and confronted the Ranjana, who stood defiantly with her fists upon her hips. ‘You will not put me ashore!’ she commanded.

  Nicholas stopped, started to speak, stopped, then made another sound of aggravation. He turned his back and walked to his cabin.

  Examining the damage the girl had done to his arm, Marcus said, ‘It’s a good thing he didn’t order me to chuck you over the side, girl.’

  The Ranjana turned and pulled a small jeweled dagger from the wide waistband of her skirt. Pointing it at Marcus, she said, ‘Yes, it was a good thing!’

  She flung the dagger down so it stuck quivering in the deck between Marcus’s boots. She spun and with a wave of her hands instructed her maids to follow her into her cabin. Brisa laughed. ‘She’s full of surprises, isn’t she?’

  Harry said, ‘I think Nicholas is going to find that out soon enough.’

  Margaret and Abigail both looked on in amazement, and Margaret said, ‘You said she was difficult, but nothing about being murderous.’

  Abigail came to Marcus and made soothing noises, to his embarrassment, as she examined the scratches. Abigail then said, ‘What did you mean, Nicholas is going to find that out, Harry?’

  It was Brisa who answered. ‘Let’s just say that girl will find some way to get Nicholas to do what she wants. There’s a lot more to her than she’s letting on.’

  Harry nodded. ‘And Nicholas doesn�
�t exactly have a lot of experience with women.’

  Margaret said, ‘And you do, Squire? This from the lad who blushed when I teased him in the garden?’

  Marcus said, ‘A lot has happened since we last saw you, sister.’

  Harry said, ‘My friend, you have a knack for understatement,’ and burst out laughing. A moment later, so did Ghuda, and soon everyone in the group was laughing.

  Nicholas tried to sleep; he’d kicked off his boots, but lay fully clothed on the bunk. Close to exhaustion, he still couldn’t get his mind to cease racing with worry. The Overlord’s ship dogged their heels. Whoever was captaining it was skilled at using wind and oars to cut the distance whenever he had the chance. Pickens had said they’d leave the droman behind once they stopped following the coast and turned to move across the sea. Nicholas had eaten alone in his cabin, after sitting for a while with Amos in his. Then he had attempted to puzzle out Amos’s log, deciphering the Admiral’s notes and abbreviations regarding currents and wind. Nicholas knew enough of sailing to know that they couldn’t literally retrace their way home – they had to find a route close to the way down, but one that took advantage of currents and winds blowing in the opposite direction from the way they had come. Otherwise they’d be on the tack for hundreds of miles.

  Nicholas finally managed to doze when a creak of the door opening brought him instantly awake. ‘Huh?’ he said as he drew his sword noisily from the scabbard.

  ‘Don’t,’ said a female voice. Someone sat on the bed next to him.

  ‘Abby?’ asked Nicholas, reaching for a light.

  ‘She’s with Marcus in the rope locker,’ said the voice. ‘They’re … getting reacquainted, let’s say.’ He struck spark and brought the lantern to life, and discovered the Ranjana sitting next to him.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, irritated at the intrusion.

  ‘We need to talk,’ she said. She wore a silk gown that clung to her curves, and her hair had been done up with gold and pearl pins, accenting her dark curls.

  ‘About what?’ he asked.

  ‘This place we’re going? You’re really a Prince?’

  Nicholas said, ‘Ranjana – what is your name?’

  ‘Iasha.’

  ‘Iasha, I am a Prince. My uncle is King. My brother will be King after him.’

  The girl looked down as if embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry to have caused you so much trouble. I have been talking to the one called Margaret. I really had no idea there had been so much killing and suffering, or that you’d come so far to find the one called Abigail.’

  Nicholas sighed, lying back against the bulkhead, his arm behind his head. ‘When I began this journey, I would have told you how much I loved Abigail. That all seems silly now.’

  ‘Love is never silly,’ said Iasha.

  ‘Well, I didn’t mean to say it was. But thinking what I felt was love is silly.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Was that all you came here to say, that you’re sorry?’

  ‘Yes – no.’ She sighed. ‘When I said I loved you, it was to keep from being sent back to Kilbar.’

  ‘Somehow I figured that out,’ said Nicholas, his irritation showing.

  ‘But I was not lying when I said it would be my life.’

  ‘Your father would really kill you or sell you for something the Overlord plotted?’

  She sighed deeply again. ‘No, it’s because of something I did. Or rather, the Ranjana did.’

  ‘What?’ asked Nicholas, his face showing his confusion.

  ‘I am not the Ranjana of Kilbar.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I am her maid, Iasha. The other maids are in on the ruse, as well.’

  ‘You’d better explain this to me,’ said Nicholas.

  ‘The Ranjana had no desire to be the fifteenth wife of the Overlord of the City of the Serpent River. She has been in love with a minor prince of Hamsa since they were children together. So she bribed Andres Rusolavi, the broker, to substitute me for her and send us south, while she made her way to Hamsa to marry her prince in secret. There is almost no communication between Hamsa and the City of the Serpent River, so my lady got her prince, I would be another pretty face for the Overlord and would live in luxury, and the other maids would be rewarded for their silence by me.’

  Nicholas made an aggravated sound. ‘So it was another ruse?’

  ‘I am afraid so, my Prince. Now I must throw myself upon your mercy and beg you not to sell myself and the others into slavery.’

  Nicholas fixed her with a narrow gaze. ‘Somehow I think you’ve already been told by Margaret that we don’t have slavery in the Kingdom.’

  There was a faint smile at the corner of the girl’s lips, but all she said was ‘Oh?’

  Wiping his gritty eyes with his hands, he said, ‘I’d better check on Amos.’

  As he attempted to sit up, she leaned forward and her soft lips met his. He sat motionless a moment, then, when she pulled back, he said, ‘What was that for?’

  ‘Because while I do not love you, my brave captain, I think you are a kind man and would treat a maid as well as a Ranjana.’

  Nicholas said, ‘Fairly spoken, lady.’ He stood up. ‘But somehow it’s going to be a while before I take much of what anyone from your land says at face value.’

  She stood up in turn. ‘Tell me of this Kingdom of yours.’

  Nicholas said, ‘I can show you after I check on Amos. Come along.’

  He picked up the lantern and led her into Amos’s room, where the injured Admiral lay sleeping. Nicholas paused a moment, looking down at Amos, who was still pale.

  ‘Will he live?’ asked the girl quietly.

  ‘I certainly hope so,’ answered Nicholas. ‘He’s to wed my grandmother when we return. We – my family – love him very much.’ He stared down at Amos’s still features a long moment.

  Nicholas turned to the chart locker and put down the lantern. He inspected the charts that the Pantathians had provided for the original captain. Between them and Amos’s log, he hoped he could plot their way home. He selected one chart that showed the Bitter Sea and unrolled it. Pointing to Krondor, he said, ‘This is where I lived.’

  She squinted. ‘I cannot read, Captain. What do these lines say?’

  Nicholas began to speak of Krondor, and showed her how far they had sailed from the City of the Serpent River and what that looked like on the map. The girl gasped. ‘So vast a land to be owned by one man.’

  ‘Not owned,’ he corrected. ‘I’ll have to explain it to you in detail later, but my uncle is King because it is his birthright, but he also has obligations to protect those who live here. In my country, nobility is not just a privilege but also a responsibility. We rule but we also serve.’

  He explained a little of his family, and when he was done, the girl said, ‘So you will not be given a city to rule?’

  Nicholas shrugged. ‘I don’t know what my father and uncle plan for me. A state marriage, I expect, to a Princess of Roldem, or of Kesh. Or to an important Duke’s daughter.’ He said, ‘I may be sent to Rillanon and serve in my brother’s court when he becomes King.’

  ‘Where is this Rillanon?’

  He unrolled another map and laid it out next to the first, to show her the Kingdom Sea. ‘This island here’ – he pointed – ‘is the home of my people. That is where we began and why we are called the Kingdom of the Isles.’

  ‘You must show me this Rillanon,’ said the girl, slipping her arm through his. He flushed at the feel of her breast against his arm.

  ‘Ah, perhaps,’ he said, disengaging himself and putting away the charts. ‘I think, however, you’ll have no trouble finding someone to show you just about anything you want to see.’

  She pouted and Nicholas felt his heart skip. ‘I am but a poor maid. What man of rank would look twice at me?’

  Nicholas grinned. ‘Any number, I dare say. You are certainly beautiful.’

  She brightened. ‘You really think me beautiful?�
��

  Trying to make light of it, he said, ‘When you’re not trying to claw Marcus’s eyes out or shrieking like a wounded cat.’

  She smiled, covering her mouth with her hand. ‘That is how the Ranjana acts, my captain. I sought to act as she would, to make my impersonation convincing.’

  Suddenly it became silent, as Nicholas realized he didn’t have any idea what to say next. The girl stood looking up at him, illuminated by the soft glow from the lantern. Their eyes met and she stepped forward and kissed him again. This time his body took over, and without thought, he pulled her tightly against him.

  They stood making soft sounds for a moment, when a voice said weakly, ‘Nicky, can’t you and your girly find a cabin of your own?’

  Nicholas turned. ‘Amos!’

  He took two steps toward Amos and turned to Iasha. ‘Go get Anthony!’ he said, and the girl hurried out to find the magician.

  ‘Help me sit up,’ Amos said.

  Nicholas let Amos grip his arm while getting more comfortable, then adjusted the pillows behind him.

  ‘Well, Ghuda owes me five golden sovereigns,’ said Amos.

  ‘Why?’ asked Nicholas.

  ‘I bet him that girl would convince one of you young lechers to bring her with us. So you’re the one bedding her?’

  ‘No, I’m not sleeping with her,’ said Nicholas.

  ‘Gods, son, what’s wrong with you?’ He coughed and said, ‘Ah, damn me, but I hurt.’

  ‘You’re lucky to be alive,’ said Nicholas.

  ‘You’re not the first to tell me that,’ said Amos. ‘Now, what’s happened since I got stuck?’

  Nicholas filled him in, and by the time he was done, Anthony appeared. The healer examined Amos and said, ‘You’ll do well to stay in bed awhile. I’ll have someone bring you some broth. That belly wound is dangerous, so you’ll have to watch what you eat for a while.’

  ‘Would you think a little wine was in order?’ asked Amos with a weak smile.

  ‘A small glass with the broth,’ said Anthony. ‘It will help you sleep better.’

  Anthony left and Nicholas said, ‘Tomorrow, we –’

  ‘Have to kill those things below,’ said Amos. ‘Yes, I was wondering why you waited.’

 

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