Brown River Queen

by Frank Tuttle

  Evis thought for a moment. “All right. Stitches, put together a plan to snatch the new brunettes. Whatever resources you need, I’ll authorize them.”

  Before or after we host the Regent?

  “Before. If Markhat’s troubles and our maiden voyage are related, I want to know it now, not halfway to Bel Loit.”

  Might it not be prudent to consider leaving Mr. Markhat behind, in case his pursuers persist?

  “It might.” Evis pulled his fingertips apart and sat up straight. “And it might be that’s what someone is hoping for. No. We grab them now.”

  As you wish.

  Mama poured another beer and glared at the empty white china before her.

  “So, what’s for dinner?”

  Dinner, all five courses of it, was a feast.

  Stitches sat so silent and still I began to wonder if anyone but Evis and I were even aware of her presence. There was no plate set before her and I pondered briefly how she took in sustenance, if not through her mouth.

  Across from her, Mama chopped and hacked and smacked and burped her way through each culinary masterpiece, offering up her own earthy critique as she went. Evis was so distracted he almost put a forkful of beef in his mouth. Gertriss hardly touched her meal, aside from occasional savage stabs that always seemed to coincide with one of Mama’s grand pronouncements concerning the lackluster state of talent in Avalante’s kitchens.

  Darla and I ignored Mama as best we could and attended to the serious business of dining on Avalante’s largess with all the attention we could muster.

  There was a salad, which was as good as a pile of lettuce sprinkled with nuts and cherry tomatoes can possibly be. There was a steak, which was better than any steak I’d ever dreamed of, much less consumed. There were green beans and squash and sticks made of potatoes which were then fried until they were crispy, salted, and served.

  I hadn’t expected such hearty fare. I would have said so, too, but Mama was still holding court and steering the conversation, untroubled by the chunk of steak she’d just shoved into her wide Hog mouth.

  “Like I was sayin’, boy, they cleaned up your house right good. Hung the door back, even. I reckon your fool neighbors are believin’ them tales about street kids and fireworks.”

  “Easier to believe than the truth.”

  Mama waved a forkful of green beans at me. “And just what is the truth, boy? That you were set upon by unholy critters raised up by them what we is all warned never to name?”

  “Mama.” Gertriss put down her empty fork. “Couldn’t we talk about something else?”

  “Why should we? You goin’ to hide on this boat forever, are ye? Eatin’ meals you ain’t paid for, keepin’ company with folks who is likely the root of your troubles?”

  Mama was staring at me when she spoke, but Gertriss reddened like she’d been slapped.

  “That’s enough.” I glared. “Mama. I’ve known you since the War. I cannot believe you’d stoop to insulting a man’s table with a mouth full of his supper.”

  “I ain’t insulting him,” said Mama. She turned her gaze toward Stitches. “Oh, I sees you, right enough. And what I can’t see I can surmise. Fancy wand-waver, thinkin’ she’d make a mock of old Mama! Well, old I may be, but I ain’t blind. Not where it counts. I sees you, all wrapped up in shadows. Might as well come out and say how-do-ye-do all polite like.”

  Stitches shrugged, and though she didn’t change at all to my eyes Mama crowed in triumph.

  “I knowed it! Boy, I’ve seen this one pokin’ around too, thinkin’ she walked all hid in the dark.” Mama snapped her greasy fingers. “Ha!”

  Well done, Mrs. Hog. Stitches reached up and removed her mask, revealing her sewn-shut eyes and lips. Not one in ten thousand professional sorcerers could have seen through my glamour. May I inquire as to how you accomplished this?

  Mama puffed up like a well-fed jaybird.

  “I keeps special moon-blessed water in a wash pot out back,” she said. “Them puddles in the sidewalk you stepped over? I could see your reflection, plain as day.”

  Stitches nodded. Intriguing. I believed myself safe from such a stratagem. Would you be willing to divulge the precise nature of your blessing? I would compensate you for the information, of course.

  Mama cackled. “Well, ain’t this a historical occasion! The likes of you, wantin’ to pay the likes of me.” She pretended to consider the offer for a moment, chewing noisily as she paused. “Well, and mainly because this is a damn fine cut o’ beef, I’ll take yer coin.”

  Excellent. Shall we take to the deck so that we may speak privately?

  “I would sure enjoy one of them fancy cigars,” said Mama. Evis slid one across the table without comment.

  “Thankee very much,” said Mama, winking at me as she rose. “We gots to talk business.”

  Stitches rose as well, following Mama through the doors and onto the Queen’s wide deck.

  Gertriss let out her breath in a heartfelt sigh. Evis drained his glass, put it down, and drained it yet again as soon as Dutson refilled it.

  “Going to have to give Stitches a raise,” he said.

  “You think she let Mama see her?”

  “Hell yes, she let Mama see her. No offense, Markhat, Gertriss, but Stitches is a Corps-worthy talent. Mama knows a trick or two, no doubt, but—”

  “Somebody’s being played,” I agreed. I wasn’t quite so sure Mama was the one being deceived. “So, some old spook is still watching my house. Troubling.”

  “That it is. But I wouldn’t panic just yet. We’ll find out who’s behind this. If they’re after the huldra, I’m sure we can think of a way to convince them you haven’t got it.”

  I nodded, more for Darla’s benefit than because I believed any such thing.

  “The meal has been marvelous,” said Darla. “Dutson, I hope you’ll tell the kitchen staff I said so. I’ve never had a better supper, and that’s the truth.”

  He smiled a refined, close-lipped smile. “Very good, madam. I shall inform them. We are happy to have been of service.”

  Evis motioned for a refill. Gertriss shot him a look but didn’t speak.

  I put my napkin down by my empty plate and stood. “My dear, I believe friend Stitches might soon need rescuing. Would you care for a moonlit stroll on the deck? I hear the spinnakers are lovely in the moonlight.”

  Darla rose. “Evis. Gertriss. Good evening, if we don’t see you again tonight.”

  Both wished us the same. Neither put much heart into it. Dutson, seeing the lay of the land, ambled quietly away.

  The Ogres still flanked the main doors, their big owl eyes gleaming and alert in the dark. “Good evening, gents,” I said, dipping my own eyes in a display of good Ogre manners. “Which way did they go? The small woman and the loud one?”

  Four owl eyes darted right. I put Darla’s hand in the crook of my elbow and turned to the left.

  “I thought we were going to save Miss Stitches,” she whispered.

  “Ha. I’m pretty sure neither her nor Mama needs saving.”

  Darla laughed and sidled up close beside me. She smelled of the fancy, peach-scented soap we’d found in the bathroom. “So was that an excuse just to get me out on the deck alone?”

  “My brilliant plot is undone,” I said. “Woe is me.”

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  Being the obliging sort, I obliged. I may have obliged four or five times before we both heard Mama’s raucous laughter rise up into the night.

  “Mama’s made a friend,” murmured Darla.

  “Too bad it wasn’t Evis.” I shifted a bit, because something nautical was pressing uncomfortably into the small of my back, and that’s when I saw a familiar small, blonde banshee peek around a stack of crates at the far end of the Queen’s private wharf.

  Darla followed my gaze. We waited a moment, and there she was again, glowing faintly this time.

  “Dammit.”

  “It’s no good locking her in,” said Darla.
“And with all of us here…”

  “We’d better find Mama. Angels know what might happen if Buttercup tries to board.”

  Darla pulled away and we made for the sound of Mama’s laughter at a trot.

  We hadn’t gotten halfway when Buttercup simply appeared, right in front of us.

  She hugged my legs and squealed. Darla caught her up and held her close.

  We waited.

  Lightning did not flare. Walls of flame failed to rise roaring up around us. No horns blew. No black-clad Avalante soldiers surrounded us with guns.

  Buttercup giggled and squirmed.

  “So much for the Queen being impregnable,” I muttered.

  “I’ll keep her here. Surely Mama can get her home.”

  “She’d better.” I pretended to steal Buttercup’s nose, and she played along, grabbing and laughing.

  “Back in a flash,” I said, and I was off.

  I made for the sound of Mama’s voice at a run. Buttercup had just breached the best defenses Avalante could muster without any apparent effort. While Evis was practically an uncle to the banshee, his bosses might not prove so charitable, if they ever learned of her abilities.

  Mama and Stitches were leaning against the rail, looking out at the sluggish waters of the Brown. Mama’s cigar glowed red in the dark. Stitches had pulled back her hood, so the cool night air blew over her ruined face.

  “You should have brung a cigar, boy,” said Mama. “‘Cause I ain’t sharing this here one.”

  “She behaving herself?”

  We have had a delightful chat. Missus Hog is privy to a practice I thought long dead.

  “I’m privy to lots of things.” Mama sucked at the cigar and blew a perfect smoke ring, better than any Evis ever made. “Folks would do well to remember that.”

  Indeed. Stitches pulled her hood up before she turned to face me. Good evening, Missus Hog, Mr. Markhat. I have work to do.

  “Good evenin’ to you too,” said Mama, between puffs. Stitches glided away, more ghost than girl.

  “She musta been a good looker before she done all that sewin’ on her face,” said Mama.

  I made frantic shushing noises. Stitches wasn’t twenty feet away.

  Mama guffawed. “Oh, settle down. She ain’t likely to swat at me for speakin’ the truth. That niece of mine send you out here?”

  I leaned on the rail myself. “Gertriss and Evis left right after you did. Probably looking for someplace with a nice thick door. But that’s not why I’m here. Buttercup just joined us.”

  “Damn. I thought I had her put down for a nap.”

  “Well, she woke up and strolled all the way across town before skipping right through Angels know how many wards and spells hung around the Queen. I’d rather keep that bit a secret, Mama. We don’t want Avalante deciding they need to do any research on banshees and their sneaky little feet, do we?”

  “I don’t reckon even a Dark House could keep that there banshee anywhere she don’t want to be kept. But I sees your point. I’ll take her on home.”

  “Thanks.”

  Mama grinned suddenly, her bright little eyes dancing in the moonlight.

  “Boy, did you see how Evis and my niece were a squirmin, and a sweatin’ all through supper?”

  “Mama, look—”

  She held up her hand and took a long draw from the cigar. “Don’t you ‘Mama look’ me, boy. You think I don’t know where that niece of mine stays all hours? You think I don’t know who’s she’s keepin’ company with, and why?”

  “This isn’t the time, Mama.”

  “Ain’t ever gonna be a good time, boy. You know I don’t approve.”

  “You don’t? What a surprise.”

  “And you think since I don’t approve I’d give them all manner of perdition, is that it?”

  Darla peeked around the corner. Buttercup saw me and waved.

  “Well, maybe you don’t know old Mama as well as ye think you do. ‘Cause I don’t plan on raising no fuss over matters that ain’t none of my business in the first place. So you can tell that niece of mine she can stop sneakin’ around. She’s family, boy. Only family I got. I ain’t ready to lose that over her choice of beau.”

  I motioned for Darla to join us.

  “That’s very open minded of you, Mama.”

  “Ain’t got much choice, do I?”

  Buttercup saw Mama and leaped from Darla’s arms, racing toward Mama without bothering to put her dainty banshee feet anywhere near the Queen’s fresh-scrubbed deck.

  “What are you doin’ out of bed, you barefoot devil?” croaked Mama without malice. “What are we going to do with you, child?”

  Buttercup kissed Mama on her cheek and started running in circles around her.

  “Thank you for the meal,” said Mama. She took a final puff from her cigar before throwing the remnants out into the river. “We’d best be getting home.”

  She took Buttercup by the hand, and off they went.

  Darla and I watched them go.

  “Did Mama mention Gertriss and Evis?”

  I nodded. “She did. Claimed she wasn’t planning on causing any trouble. Said it was none of her business.”

  Darla raised an eyebrow.

  “Think she’s telling the truth?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “I hope you’re wrong. They’ve got enough to worry about without Mama causing trouble.”

  “I hope I’m wrong too. That’s bound to happen someday, you know.”

  “What is?”

  “Me being wrong.”

  She kissed me, right there on the riverfront, where passing barge-hands could have seen—had it been daylight, and had any barges been passing.

  I risked public scandal by kissing her right back.

  It must have been the moonlight.

  Chapter Nine

  Life aboard a boat takes on its own unique cadence.

  Mornings, for instance. Bells rouse the crew from slumber. The crew, once roused, proceed to swarm the decks performing various nautical tasks, all of which involve swearing, banging, stomping, and more swearing, usually followed by a spirited round of beating on one heavy iron thing with another.

  Darla and I took to burying our heads beneath our pillows, which more or less worked until the engine crew began the day’s piston test. That shook the Queen from bow to stern and, on two occasions, filled the hallways with thick clouds of smoke.

  We never moved, and the Queen’s massive red paddle wheel never turned. Evis remained confident, waving off my concerns with a grin and a shrug. “It’s a new boat, Markhat,” he said. “Plenty of time to get her ready.”

  By my count, the Queen was set to take aboard her well-heeled passengers and steam for Bel Loit in eight short days. Given that the Queen was still full of ladders and workmen and a betting pool had emerged on the question of whether the big red paddle wheel would turn or strip her gears, I decided Evis’s nonchalance was forced, if not outright fabricated.

  But, as Darla pointed out, that wasn’t my concern.

  I made it my concern to memorize the Queen’s layout and get to know as many of her crew as I could. So I did what some say is what I do best and made a nuisance of myself.

  I wandered the Queen’s gangways, drink in hand, and accosted anyone foolish enough to stand still. Then I asked whatever questions came to mind—how much coal were we storing, how many Ogres work below decks, where can I get another glass of beer, and so on.

  I wasn’t so much interested in their answers as I was the way in which they answered.

  Only the Queen’s good captain, a grey-bearded gent named Samuels, with piercing blue eyes and a soft voice, invited me to get the hell out of his way so he could get to work, and I could damned well find my own way to the nearest beer-barrel.

  The rest ran the gamut from obsequious toad to surly coal-shovel man. None broke down and confessed to any dastardly plots under the sheer intensity of my steely glare, and I lamented this sad fact to Darla on t
he evening of our fourth day aboard the Queen.

  She put down her book and smiled at me over the tops of her reading glasses.

  “Perhaps, dear, you aren’t drinking enough beer.”

  I sat down on the bed beside her.

  “The beer is just for show. People are more likely to talk if they think the man they’re talking to is a bit tipsy.”

  Her expression didn’t change.

  “I met the Captain today. We had quite a nice chat. Seems to be a competent sailor, and more importantly, he has a well-trimmed white beard.”

  “I heard he nearly had you clapped in irons.”

  I imitated Evis and his dismissive wave. “That’s just how us old sea-dogs talk. I’m very nearly first mate. Maybe even boatswain.”

  “What exactly is a boatswain, dear?”

  “And just how did you hear anything, new bride of mine? I thought you were going to spend the day reading.”

  “I have my secrets.”

  “So how is Gertriss, since Mama’s little visit?”

  “Troubled. Evis?”

  “Evis is Evis. Not a care in the world. Should he be worried?”

  She took off her glasses and laid them on her book. “We should all be worried, I imagine. Any news from your friend Miss Stitches and our woman problem?”

  “None yet.” I laid down and stretched. Bones popped. “Did you bring that fancy pocket-watch Evis gave you as a wedding present?”

  “I did.”

  “Good. I want us to take a stroll or two later on. From one end of the Queen to the other, from deck to deck, all around.”

  “Why, pray tell?”

  “Where did all those soldiers come from when Mama showed up?”

  “I’ve wondered that too. But it was dark and they’re halfdead. They could have been standing in the shadows all along.”

  “I thought that too, at first.”

  “But not now.”

  “Not now. Avalante isn’t going to station armed halfdead in every corner once the casino is open. No, they had to have another way of moving from place to place.”

  “Why not just ask Evis?”