‘It’s hard, Amos. I know what Nakor and Calis have told me, and what Margaret and Abigail said, but they look like people; they look like friends from Castle Crydee.’
‘But they’re not,’ was all Amos said. ‘You’re a Prince of the Blood Royal, like your father and brothers, and you have a duty. Often that means taking life to protect your own. It’s not fair, or right, or even just, only necessary. That’s the way of it.’
Nicholas nodded. ‘I’ll let you sleep. Tomorrow I’ll need you to decipher those scratches in your log so we can find our way home.’
Amos said, ‘Tomorrow.’ Already he looked ready to go back to sleep. ‘One thing.’
‘What?’
‘That little girl. Don’t let her get too close.’
‘I thought you said there was something wrong with me …’
Amos said, ‘No, I don’t mean bedding her. She could probably teach you a thing or three. No, just remember who you are and where your destiny lies. You’re free to love who you may, but the King will tell you who you’re to wed.’
Nicholas nodded. ‘I’ve been told that all my life, Amos.’
‘Just remember that when she’s got you by the short handle. Most men can’t think well then; don’t make promises.’ Then he grinned and Nicholas was looking at the old Amos. ‘Just because you can’t allow her to take control of your life doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy letting her try.’
Nicholas blushed. ‘Good night, Amos. I’ll see you in the morning.’
He returned to his own cabin and remembered he’d left the lantern in Amos’s. In the dark, he stripped off his shirt and trousers, and sat on the bed. He leaped to his feet when something moved. Iasha’s voice said, ‘Get under the covers. It’s cold in here!’
He hesitated, then slipped in beside the girl. He felt warm skin against his own. He was motionless a moment, unsure of what to do next, when her lips found his. He responded, and then he laughed.
‘What?’ she asked, her tone a mix of amusement and concern. ‘You think me funny?’
‘No,’ said Nicholas. ‘Just thinking of something Amos told me.’
‘What?’
‘I’ll tell you later,’ he said, kissing her again.
Harry said, ‘They’re still back there, Captain.’
Nicholas had just come up on deck, to a blue sky and fresh breeze. ‘How long can they keep this up? They can’t be carrying provisions for a long voyage.’
‘Maybe they don’t care,’ said Harry. ‘You done with the cabin?’ With the women on board, the officers and nobles had been doubling up in quarters, so Pickens and a new bosun’s mate, Gregory, shared the midshipman’s bunk. Harry and Nicholas were also on opposite watches – Harry had command at night – and slept in what had been the first mate’s cabin. The Ranjana, Margaret, Abigail, and the maids were supposed to be sleeping in the two small cabins for passengers or guests on Kingdom ships, but Nicholas wondered if the girls were making the same sorts of arrangements he and Harry had.
Harry said, ‘You’ll be a little more convincing as a commander if you wipe that stupid grin off your face.’
Nicholas said, ‘Grin?’
Harry nodded. ‘I know the feeling.’ He smiled as he nodded toward Brisa, who was crossing the deck.
‘Look, this is a funny time to say this, considering …’
‘Considering what?’
Nicholas blushed. ‘What happened last night, but we should try to be circumspect about these sleeping arrangements.’
Harry said, ‘Why? I’ve got Brisa, you’ve got the Ranjana, Marcus has Abigail, Anthony is with Margaret; seems like it’s worked out pretty reasonably.’
‘Explain that to the other forty-nine men on this ship,’ Nicholas said. Harry glanced at a knot of mercenaries sitting on a hatch cover and watching Brisa walk by. ‘Our own men we can trust; they’re professional soldiers and sailors of the King. But hired knives? I want a watch on how much wine and ale are dispensed at meals and an ear out for trouble. We’ve got three months or more of crossing the ocean ahead of us.’
Harry sighed. ‘You’re right. I’ll say something to the others.’
‘The real problem is going to be the maids,’ said Nicholas. ‘A little wordplay is one thing, but a knife fight over one of them, that could be disastrous.’
Harry said, ‘I understand. I’ll pass the word to stay alert.’
A curse from below brought Nicholas’s attention to the main deck, where Amos stood waving off Anthony’s solicitations. ‘You may be the healer, but it’s my body and I damn well know when I need some fresh air! Get away!’ He slapped weakly at Anthony’s offer of help and gripped the rail.
Nicholas hurried down and said, ‘What are you doing out of bed?’
‘I’ve been bedridden long enough to smell like the bottom of last night’s ale mug. I need some air and some clean clothes.’
Nakor appeared from belowdecks, and said, ‘Anthony, Captain.’ Seeing Amos, he said, ‘Admiral! Good to see you.’
‘Good to see your silly grin, too,’ said Amos.
To Nicholas, Nakor said, ‘Those creatures have all fallen asleep. The drug should last for some time, but with inhuman things, you can’t know. We must do it now.’
Nicholas closed his eyes a moment, then said, ‘Do it.’
Nakor signaled to Ghuda, who led the work gang. They slid aside the cargo hatch and moved a large cargo net with small bags of lead ballast tied to it into position over the hold. Nakor nimbly jumped to the net and hung there while it was lowered. Time dragged on while they silently waited, for only Nakor would go into the lower cargo deck, to load the thirty unconscious creatures into the net. He claimed he was the least likely candidate to become infected because of some tricks he knew, and without knowing how the plague was spread, Nicholas couldn’t disagree with his judgment.
Then a shout came from below, and Ghuda signaled. The men on the hoist pushed on the wooden spokes that extended from the capstan, and the cargo net rose slowly up until it cleared the deck. Nakor was hanging on the outside of the net and jumped down to the deck as it cleared the hold. It moved higher, until it was above the rail, and two men hauled on boom lines to swing it over the water. The bodies within looked peaceful, sleeping young men and women.
Then, without waiting for any order, Nakor took a knife and cut the line to the net, releasing it. With a splash it struck the water, and Nicholas watched in mute revulsion while those inside the ropy web sank out of sight without a sound as the ballast pulled them toward the bottom of the sea.
Anthony put his hand on Nicholas’s shoulder and said, ‘It had to be done. There was no other way. Keep in mind those creatures were created to die.’
‘It doesn’t make murder any easier,’ Nicholas said softly.
Anthony said, ‘I’m going down to the lower deck with Nakor. Between us, we can cleanse it of any possible illness left behind. Then the mercenaries will have a place to sleep besides the main deck.’
Nicholas nodded.
Amos said, ‘What about that ship that’s following us?’
Nicholas said, ‘Praji called it a droman. It’s like a Quegan bireme with a catapult and ballista; it’s also got a ram and boarding ramp. Single lateen sail off a mainmast, and I think there’s a spanker behind, though it never got close enough to see.’
‘The captain’s brave or mad. That’s no deep-water ship. A storm hits, and they’ll be rowing for their lives.’
‘Remember who we’re dealing with,’ said Nicholas.
Amos nodded. ‘I know better than you, boy. I’ve seen their butchery on a scale you can only imagine.’ He glanced upward and said, ‘The men seem to be taking care of their duties.’
‘Pickens is turning out to be a good first mate, and Harry’s learning as we go.’ Nicholas smiled. ‘So am I.’
‘Sometimes it’s the best way. Pickens always was a good seaman; it was his love of too much drink while in port that kept him in the forecastle.’ Glancing back
to where Pickens stood, Amos said, ‘We get through all this and he stays sober in port, I’ll make the promotion permanent.’
Amos staggered a little and had to grab the rail. Nicholas said, ‘All right. That’s enough. Back to bed. I’ll gladly return command to you when you’re ready, but that’s not for a while yet.’
As Nicholas helped Amos back to his cabin, Amos said, ‘Nicky, do me one favor, will you?’
‘What?’
‘When we get home, don’t mention this business to your grandmother. No need to upset her.’
Nicholas said, ‘I think she might notice that puncture wound in your stomach, Amos.’
‘I’ll come up with a good story by then,’ he said weakly.
Nicholas helped him back into his bunk, and before he could leave the cabin, Amos was fast asleep.
Time wore on. Nicholas’s fear about friction between the men with women present seemed unfounded, as long as the pursuing war galley could be seen. For hours there would be no sign of the droman, then it would reappear just before sunset, or to be back at dawn. Without sight of the Royal Gull, it might have been easy to grow lax and think the voyage might end without a struggle, but the black shape on the horizon behind them always reminded them a fight was close at hand.
The prisoners from Crydee were recovering their strength enough to spend some time on deck. The dozen women from Crydee and the four maids with Iasha were around to keep the single men from becoming resentful of those with Nicholas and his friends. Twice Nicholas had broken up scuffles between boatmen or mercenaries, but he judged them no worse than similar altercations between apprentices over city girls he had observed back at Krondor.
The sailors kept the ship in trim, and those boatmen who had elected to join this journey became able deckhands. Soldiers of Crydee found themselves back at tasks learned on the journey out, while Nicholas, Marcus, and Harry learned the shipmaster’s craft.
Every day Nicholas conferred with Amos, who attempted to help him get some sense of navigation from the charts and his log. They were approaching the place where Amos judged them most likely to find a friendly current as they turned away from Novindus and headed across the sea. Already they had left sight of land behind, and now the water was turning a darker blue, showing a change in current. Nicholas still wasn’t as confident of reading such changes as Amos was, but then, Amos had been doing it forty years longer.
Life on the ship settled into a routine, if a tense one. But few people can live constantly under a cloud; there were moments of genuine humor and no small amount of playfulness. Harry and Brisa still sparred and hurled mock threats at each other, but Nicholas noticed he rarely saw them apart.
Margaret and Anthony could often be seen on the bow, stealing what little privacy they could for themselves. They were not as demonstrative as Brisa and Harry, but few couples were.
Marcus and Abigail had settled into a quiet contentment, though Abigail could still bring a frown to his face by mentioning her desire to see Krondor and Rillanon. Nicholas was coming to judge his cousin a man unlikely to travel more than a day’s ride from his home again unless it was absolutely necessary or he was out hunting.
Nicholas found his own life surprisingly satisfying. Iasha was passionate and instructive, and he was a more than willing pupil. The duties of captaining the ship, and of overseeing the training of the men for the coming battle, the time spent with Amos – all put him into a frame of mind that could only be called happy. He knew that a fight was coming and that nothing less than disaster for his homeland hung in the balance, but he preferred to put that problem aside until necessity dictated otherwise. It was the potential of conflict that heightened his appreciation of the good things he encountered along the way. For the interim, he was satisfied to enjoy the work, the company of good friends, and the affection of a beautiful young woman.
Nicholas was too practical to think himself in love with the girl; what he felt for her was no small part affection: Iasha had revealed herself to be a shrewd and clever young woman with a keen curiosity and the same tough, street-wise savvy that Brisa displayed. What Brisa had named coldness back when they had first met turned out to be a pointed desire for survival, a trait Brisa could appreciate. Iasha’s lack of formal education and her rough upbringing could not mask her intelligence, and on several occasions Nicholas had been taken to task by her for confusing ignorance with stupidity. But while Nicholas dreamed of magical love, as young men his age often did, he had known from his earliest days that he was a child of the state and that the right to chose his own life would never be his.
This interim of sailing northeast, through the hot afternoons of equatorial waters, with those he came in search of safe, was as close to freedom as the young Prince had ever known.
Late in the second month they were entering familiar waters; Amos came up on deck one night and scanned the heavens. ‘The stars look like they’re supposed to,’ he said with a grin. ‘We’re heading home.’ The last was said with a wistfulness Nicholas had never heard from him.
‘What’s wrong?’ Nicholas asked.
‘Nothing, really,’ said Amos. He leaned against the rail of the main deck and looked out at the dark water. ‘I was just thinking that this is indeed my last voyage.’
‘It’s not as if you’re going to be walled up in the palace,’ said Nicholas. ‘Grandmother has her estates and loves to travel. You may wish to stay in Krondor after one season of touring the Kingdom with her – Rillanon, Bas-Tyra, down to see Aunt Carline in Salador, a visit at Darkmoor to taste the new wines, a trip up to Yabon every second year.’
Amos shook his head. ‘Landed gentry. I’ll never get used to that.’
Nicholas grinned. ‘You will.’
Amos said, ‘Just like you’re going to get used to returning to your father’s court?’
Nicholas lost his smile.
‘I thought so.’
Changing the subject, Nicholas said, ‘Do you think they’re making for Krondor?’
Amos did not need to ask who ‘they’ were, and he knew Nicholas already knew the answer; they had discussed this several times before, but he also knew that despite his having matured greatly over the last year, Nicholas was still young in many ways, and unsure of himself.
Amos thought a moment, then said, ‘It’s the most logical choice.’ He glanced around to ensure they were not being overheard and said, ‘We know their ultimate goal: Sethanon and the Lifestone. The plague is only a means to an end; by throwing the Kingdom into chaos, they can easily send an expedition to Sethanon, to release their “goddess”.’
‘Very foolish creatures,’ said Nakor.
They both turned suddenly, and Amos said, ‘Don’t do that. Where did you come from?’
Nakor grinned. ‘Where could I have come from? We’re on a ship, remember?’
Nicholas said, ‘How much did you hear?’
‘Enough. But nothing I didn’t already know.’
Nicholas chided himself that he should never underestimate the little man’s knowledge, but he had been certain only a handful of people knew of the Lifestone. ‘What do you think?’
‘The snakes are very strange creatures. I have thought so for many years.’
‘You’ve encountered them before?’ asked Amos.
‘The last time I was in Novindus.’
Amos and Nicholas said, ‘You’ve been to Novindus before?’
‘Once, a long time ago – though I didn’t know it was Novindus at the time; it’s a long story having to do with a trick that didn’t work the way I thought it would, some temple relics I thought were abandoned, and a secret priesthood with no sense of humor. Anyway, these Pantathians are foolish creatures who would murder the planet for this false goddess of theirs; and in the end, their plans will fail.’
Amos didn’t speculate on how much Nakor knew. All he said was ‘Well, a man can kill you for foolish reasons just as easily as for good ones.’
‘That’s the thing,’ said Nakor. �
�You’re just as dead. You can’t argue with religious fanatics.’
Ghuda came wandering over and heard the last remark. ‘Oh, you can argue,’ he pointed out, ‘but a fat lot of good it does you. A desert man I once knew called it “pounding sand down a rathole”.’
They all smiled. ‘How is the training going?’ asked Nicholas.
‘Well. Some of the prisoners have recovered enough to join us; they’re very motivated to have a sword in their hand when we overtake that other ship.’
Nicholas had been reluctant to allow apprentices and pages to carry weapons, fearing they would be more of a hindrance than a help. Ghuda had convinced him that they might need every sword they could muster, and the training occupied much of the passage, giving the other mercenaries something useful to do.
They passed the evening quietly; then Amos complained of growing tired and went to his cabin. Nicholas saw Harry on the quarterdeck and decided to turn in. Reaching his cabin, he found Brisa and Iasha talking. Brisa jumped to her feet when she saw Nicholas, saying, ‘I was just leaving.’
Nicholas smiled at her as she walked past. As the days grew hotter, the women had taken to wearing simple shifts, and Brisa’s was cut provocatively low up top and high at the hem, showing neck, arms, bosom, and legs to good advantage. Nicholas watched her leave and Iasha pointedly cleared her throat. Nicholas turned to face her with a grin.
‘Come over here,’ she said, ‘and I’ll make you forget that skinny tart.’
Nicholas doffed his sword belt and removed his boots. As he dropped them on the deck, he said, ‘Skinny? Brisa?’
Iasha reached up and unfastened the top ties of her own shift, letting it fall to her waist. ‘Skinny,’ she repeated.
Nicholas laughed and playfully buried his face between her breasts. Then he kissed her and said, ‘What were you two talking about? You’ve become thick as thieves.’
Removing his tunic, she said, ‘She’s helping me learn your barbaric tongue, if you must know. She’s really not a bad sort. Once she found out I wasn’t a noblewoman, she’s become very civil.’
‘For someone who doesn’t get along with noblewomen, she and Margaret get along famously, too.’
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