The Kingdom

by Bryan M. Litfin

  “We’re gaining on her! Pull harder!”

  Ana turned. The men had lowered a rowboat and were rapidly closing the distance. One of them stood in the bow with a lantern while his comrade tugged the oars. The boat was moving faster than Ana could swim. Only her head start gave her a fighting chance against her pursuers. The race to the floating dock would be close.

  Ana reached it first, but the rowboat was right behind her. She grasped the lip of the dock, trying to heave herself out of the water, but she couldn’t find any purchase and slipped back again.

  “Gotcha!”

  A hand snatched Ana’s dress. Though she resisted, the man got a firm grip on her shoulders and hauled her partway into the boat. She hung over the gunwale, her feet in the water and her torso dripping onto the floorboards.

  The two sailors towered over her. One of them kicked her in the ribs. “Thought you could get away, did ya?”

  Ana winced at the blow, then turned her head and glowered at the arrogant men. “I still do,” she said.

  Holding the gunwale in both hands, Ana gave it a hard shove, wobbling the boat in the water. Her position on the edge of the craft afforded her a level of stability the standing men didn’t have. They uttered a shout of surprise, then toppled into the sea with their arms flailing.

  Ana slithered into the boat and stood up. She leaped onto the floating dock and dashed to the ladder that ran to the harbor’s main pier above. The wood was slick, and the rungs were slippery beneath her feet as she climbed. Ana’s waterlogged garment weighed her down. She forced herself to concentrate on her precarious ascent.

  Curses reached her ears. Ana glanced down. The men had managed to climb onto the floating dock and were following her up the ladder. She groaned and struggled higher, though she could feel her stamina giving out.

  Her foot slipped off one of the rungs. Ana squealed as she banged her shin against the rough ladder. The nearest pursuer grabbed her ankle. “No!” she screamed, shaking herself free so she could keep climbing.

  At last she reached the top and flopped onto the pier. But when she rolled over onto her back, Ana saw the sailor’s head clear the edge of the decking. “Come here, little pretty,” he leered, grabbing her leg. His fingernails dug into the flesh of her thigh.

  “Don’t touch me!”

  Ana kicked her assailant hard in the face. The man’s nose shattered under her heel with an audible crunch. “Arrgh!” he cried as his head whipped back. He clung to the ladder in a daze. Blood was smeared around his mouth like a predator at a fresh kill.

  Yet there was nowhere to run. Ana was too exhausted to flee anymore. The man would recover his wits any second, and his vengeance would be swift and violent.

  Gathering her final strength, Ana bent her knees up to her body. With a desperate yell she shot both feet straight out. Her soles contacted the two vertical stringers of the ladder where it protruded above the decking. The nails that fastened the ladder to the pier screeched as they came loose. Now the weight of two men on the rungs created forces beyond what the weather-beaten wood could bear. As the ladder broke apart Ana heard two screams, followed by the sickening thud of bodies striking the dock below. Then everything was still.

  Ana’s side ached from the kick she had taken. Breathing hard, she rose unsteadily to her feet. The alleys around the harbor were dark and forbidding. She was soaking wet, with no money, no friends, and no shelter. She didn’t even know what city she was in.

  But she had escaped.

  “There it is. That’s one of theirs.” Marco’s tone was confident.

  Teo stared across the moonlit harbor from the deck of Marco’s ship. “How do you know?”

  “The Exterminati are the only ones who rig their caravels like that. Square sails on the fore and mainmast, with a lateen on the mizzen. Makes them very fast.”

  “As fast as the Glider?”

  Marco glanced at Teo, one eyebrow cocked. “Maybe someday we’ll find out.”

  Impatience threatened to overwhelm Teo, but he forced himself to remain calm. Situations like this required careful planning or everything would come to ruin.

  The Midnight Glider had made the run to Napoly in good time, reaching the port just after sunset. As Teo had expected, a newly arrived Exterminati ship was anchored there. Since no one along the docks had seen a shipment of whores being unloaded, Teo could only assume the sisters were still imprisoned in the caravel’s hold. He intended to get them out.

  “What if we just alerted the authorities and let them take care of it?” Teo suggested. “The harbor police have the right to board and inspect. The women are clearly being held against their will.” Although Teo didn’t like the idea of putting Ana’s fate into someone else’s hands, he thought it might be the smartest move.

  Marco, however, disagreed. “Just about every woman brought to this harbor is being held against her will,” he pointed out. “Napoly is a major hub for the flesh trade. All the port officials have been bought off. They have no reason to help us. In fact, they’d probably lock us up just to keep us from making trouble.”

  “True.” Teo frowned. “Alright then, I say we make a head-on attack.”

  “What, right here in the harbor?”

  “Why not? We have your crew of pirates plus the knights. We’re more than a match for them. We could overpower the Exterminati.”

  “You can’t just pull alongside a ship and attack like that. It’s not that simple. For one thing, the port officials would stop us before we could accomplish anything. But even beyond that, you need maneuverability. Take it from one who knows—you have to be out in the open sea to capture a ship.”

  Teo let out an exasperated sigh. “Come on, Marco, we have to do something! Ana and Vanita are chained up in that ship, suffering who knows what, while we’re standing here doing nothing!”

  Marco held up two palms to calm Teo’s anxiety. “Listen, amico, I understand what you’re going through. But we have to be careful or we’re going to make things worse for the women. We only have one chance to do this right.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Teo said, putting his hand on Marco’s shoulder. “You’re right. Thanks for reminding me.” He paused. “You have any ideas then?”

  “It’s a lot easier for one man to infiltrate an enemy ship than for an army to capture it. You’d be surprised how easy it is for a stowaway to sneak on board. Happens all the time. It wouldn’t be difficult to get a man on the ship”—Marco flashed Teo a mischievous grin—“if we could find someone willing to try.”

  “Now I like how you’re thinking.” Teo motioned for Marco to continue.

  “I could have a boat waiting in the water nearby. There are only . . . what? Twenty-five women? If somebody let them out of wherever they’re locked up, they could be over the bulwarks in no time. Once they’re scattered in the water there’d be nothing the Exterminati could do. We could pick them up and be off in the Glider before they even got their sailors out of the brothels.”

  Excited, Teo realized the plan could work, yet he immediately discerned its one tactical flaw. “The getaway boat would draw suspicion if it lingered by the ship,” he noted. “This has to be a precise extraction. Get in, get out, lightning-quick.”

  “Hmm. I didn’t think of that.”

  “Here’s how we should do it. I’ll go aboard and get the layout of the ship. Then I’ll alert the women to the plan. When it’s safe to move, I’ll signal you with the ship’s lantern. You shoot in with your boat at the exact moment the women jump in the sea. If we time it right, it’ll go like clockwork.”

  Marco nodded resolutely. “Alright. I’m in.”

  “Good. And may Deu go with us.”

  “Your God has gotten you out of a lot of tight places,” Marco answered. “Let’s see if he can do it again.”

  The Glider’s crew lowered the ladder. Teo removed his leather jerkin but decided to wear his boots for better footing if combat became necessary. Slipping into the water in his trousers and shirt, he bega
n to swim toward the Exterminati caravel. A fat half-moon hung on the horizon, casting a splintered yellow sheen across the sea.

  Teo stayed underwater for most of the swim, surfacing only to breathe. He drew near the bow of the enemy ship. One of its two anchors hung aweigh, unneeded in the calm harbor. The hawsehole into which the anchor line ran was close enough to the rail that Teo thought he could climb over it.

  He swam to the other anchor, the one in the water, then reached up to where the taut rope was dry. Clamping it in his hands and feet, he began to scale the line. The only sound was the drip of water from his wet clothing. Teo hoped no one was watching him from the shadows.

  At the hawsehole Teo stretched to the rail and pulled himself onto the weather deck. He panted for a few seconds to catch his wind after his exertion. The deck featured a pair of small capstans—vertical axles with notches into which beams could be inserted. A team of men would push the beams in a circle, winding a line around drums below deck as they hauled up the anchors from the sea floor. Most of the beams were now laid aside for later use.

  Without warning a black shadow darted at Teo, moving with incredible speed. As something passed over his head he instinctively threw his hand to his neck. A wire tightened, digging into the flesh of his palm.

  Teo wrestled with the shaman at his back. The garrote pressed Teo’s hand against his larynx, cutting off his respiration. Only the intervention of his hand kept him from passing out.

  Thrashing in his assailant’s grasp, Teo reached for the knife in his boot. He fumbled for several precious seconds before finally getting a grip on the hilt. As he struggled to stab the blade behind him, the shaman was forced to release the garrote to deflect the attack. Teo inhaled a lungful of air, but his head still swam, and his movements were weak. The shaman knocked the knife away with a hard chop, then resumed his choke hold with fingers like a vise.

  Dizzy and lightheaded, Teo tumbled to the deck. The shaman knelt on his chest. Teo fought to pry his enemy’s talonlike grip from his throat, but couldn’t. The man was a professional assassin, and strangulation was his specialty. Teo’s vision blurred. The masts overhead wobbled. The stars spun in circles.

  Deu! It can’t end like this! Help me!

  His hand closed on a piece of wood. What is it? Teo’s mind cleared just enough to realize it was the lever that controlled the ratchet on the capstan. Pull it! He yanked the lever and released the tension. The capstan spun on its axis as the heavy anchor plunged into the sea—and the lone beam left in the capstan whirled around with ferocious speed.

  Crack!

  Something warm and sticky hit Teo’s face. His lungs heaved as the murderous fingers released their hold. The weight of the shaman’s knee slipped from his chest. Teo rolled away, sucking in huge gasps of air. It took a long time for his respiration to return to normal.

  At last he sat up. The shaman lay motionless on the deck. His blank eyes stared at the sky, and the pool of blood around his head was glossy black in the moonlight.

  Teo struggled to his feet and retrieved his knife. The shaman’s spattered blood had obscured his vision, so he wiped it away with a rag from a swab bucket. Then he surveyed the quiet ship.

  Nothing moved. If anyone was aware of him they would have sounded an alarm, so Teo assumed the sailors must be reveling onshore. He crossed the deck to the stern and put his ear against a barred hatch.

  At first he heard nothing. Then, straining to hear, he discerned the soft sound of female crying.

  He lifted the bar. Steps led down into the hold. Teo descended. All was quiet—until a sharp voice broke the silence.

  “What do you want with us?”

  The voice was Vanita’s.

  “It’s me—Teofil.”

  “Teofil!” Vanita rushed over, stepping into the shaft of moonlight from the hatch. “What are you doing here?”

  “Getting you out. Where’s Ana?”

  “You won’t believe this, but she escaped about an hour ago.”

  “What! How?”

  “In a water barrel. There was a commotion on deck, and she jumped overboard.”

  Teo sighed and shook his head. He was both frustrated and impressed at the same time. “That woman never ceases to amaze me,” he muttered.

  “She learned from the best, Teofil.”

  Most of the sisters had awakened now. They began to gather around. “Listen up, everyone,” Teo said. “Be ready to move as soon as I give the signal.”

  “You will do no such thing!”

  Teo froze. The sisters cried out. Turning, Teo saw men standing at the top of the steps—but not Exterminati. With their wide-shouldered physiques and close-cropped hair they looked like . . . Clansmen?

  “Alright, I won’t,” Teo agreed calmly. He gazed up at the men. “However, I might do this!”

  He charged up the steps, knocking the lead man aside. Hands clawed at him, but the footing was precarious in the close quarters, and everyone hit the deck as Teo barreled into them. He scrambled up, ducking under a punch and countering with a jab to his attacker’s jaw. After high-kicking a second man, he turned and dashed for the bulwarks. Without slowing his stride he leaped over the rail in an arcing dive.

  Teo hit the water cleanly and surfaced near the rowboat that had brought the Clansmen to the ship. Two unfortunate fellows sat huddled in it, their faces contorted in pain. One had his knee bandaged, and the other clutched a bloody forearm with a pale shard of bone protruding from it.

  “Get out,” Teo ordered.

  The two injured men were in no condition to resist. Moaning at the effort, they tumbled over the side. Teo hauled himself into the rowboat and grasped the oars.

  A Clansman had descended a rope ladder on the caravel’s hull. Teo gave the oars a hard pull, creating instant separation from the ship. The pursuer looked over his shoulder, then made a desperate leap as the boat pulled away. He fell short, causing a big splash, yet he managed to catch the gunwale in his hands. The boat rocked and nearly capsized.

  “Hang on!” shouted one of his comrades from the deck above. “Don’t let him go!”

  Teo drew his boot knife and displayed the glittering blade. The man’s eyes went wide.

  “Your choice,” Teo said.

  The Clansman raised both palms and slipped into the water. Teo began to row in earnest.

  “After him!” the man on the deck yelled, but his command was useless. No one could swim as fast as Teo’s powerful shoulders could propel the boat.

  Something hissed through the air before impacting the hull with a solid thwock! Twice more, arrows struck the wood, while other shots landed in the water nearby. Teo kept pulling the oars until he was out of range.

  He rowed to the nearest dock but saw that its ladder had come loose from the pier. Continuing to the next dock, he drew alongside it and climbed onto the floating platform. The ladder brought him up to the main pier in Napoly’s harbor.

  His mind raced. Somewhere in the dark maze of streets Ana was alone and afraid. The Exterminati were after her—and apparently so was the Clan. Though Teo didn’t know why those two groups were cooperating, he knew they both posed a mortal danger to Ana.

  But he would find her first.

  He had to.

  He had promised.

  “Easy there, boy.” Ana touched the horse’s muzzle, quieting the skittish animal. The stable was dark and, except for the horse and the woman, empty.

  In one of the stalls Ana found a grooming towel. Since the hay was clean, she took off her shoes and dried her feet. Next she removed her woolen kirtle and wrung it out, then did the same with her chemise. After toweling off, she got dressed again. Her hair was all mussed, so she smoothed it down and tied it back with a leather thong. It wasn’t fashionable, but it would have to do.

  The tavern next to the stable was filled with customers. Ana fished a few pennies from her pocket and clutched them in her fist as she entered the common room. The place was rough. She almost turned around and left, but hun
ger prevailed. All the tables were taken, so Ana found a stool near the kitchen. A plain-faced barmaid scurried around serving the patrons, who ignored her in favor of the painted girls on their laps. Ana caught the barmaid’s attention.

  “Please . . . some broth?”

  The barmaid eyed her warily. Ana brushed a lock of hair from her forehead, suddenly self-conscious under the disapproving stare.

  “You’re no streetwalker,” the barmaid said.

  Ana shook her head.

  “Face like that could make you a lot of money in Napoly.”

  “I just want some soup.” Ana opened her hand and displayed her pennies.

  “We got minestrone. I’ll fetch some.”

  Ana nodded agreeably. At this point she was hungry enough to eat shoe leather.

  The maid returned with a steaming earthenware bowl. Ana wolfed down the soup and was about to beg for more when a man approached. He wasn’t the gentlemanly type.

  “How much?” he demanded.

  Ana held up both hands and waved him off, but the man didn’t relent. “Come on,” he said. “I don’t care what you ask. Follow me.” He headed for the stairs, then turned to look over his shoulder.

  “I said let’s go!” he bellowed.

  A few people around the room stopped what they were doing to watch the exchange. Ana stood up, drawing hoots and whistles from the male spectators. She set the bowl on the counter.

  “I was just on my way out,” she said, starting toward the door.

  “I don’t think so. I’m buyin’ what you’re sellin’.” The ruffian moved to block her path. He was a foul man with a scrawny body and a beak for a nose. If Teo had been there, the fellow would have crawled into a dark hole like a rat.

  Ana swallowed. She knew she could outmatch this runt if everyone else in the place would leave her alone. What would divert their attention?

  Facing Beak-Nose directly, Ana gave him a brazen smile. “I’m expensive,” she declared. “Too much for the likes of you.”

  “You don’t know me,” the man snarled. “I’m a big deal around here.”