The old man’s lip curled bitterly. ‘In those days, the king of Valdez’s only concern was making sure that the Lordship did not go to a prince from Castille, and the king of Castille thought likewise about Valdez. Even though the two were – as now – by far the most powerful of the kingdoms, they were each content to see the Lordship pass to a minor realm rather than to their rival. They think differently now. Carrasco and Ferdinand have decided that to share the Lordship between two is better than sharing it between eleven. Thus they have hatched their scheme in which Ferdinand’s only grandchild – a granddaughter – would wed the youngest son of Carrasco, and that this most blessed of couples would then be appointed joint heir to my throne.’
Vincente was nodding. ‘And if you, or we in the other kingdoms, should refuse to agree to this?’
‘Then the two kingdoms threaten war. Oh, they have not said so publicly. But in their private messages to me, the meaning is clear.’
Benito too was nodding unhappily. ‘I have discussed such with my fellow monarchs. If the nine lesser kingdoms stood firm against the two, then perhaps we could be sure of victory. But of course several of the lesser kingdoms have long been under the dominion of Valdez or Castille, and would side with them. If war came, I fear it would split the alliance near enough in half – and who could then say who would be the victor?’
‘It would be disaster irreparable,’ intoned the Sea Lord, ‘to break the peace of over a hundred years. And yet it would seem that the only alternative is to succumb to the overlordship of Valdez and Castille. A grim choice. There remains however one hope – that my son might be found. Valdez and Castille would not dare declare war, nor would any lesser kingdoms follow them, if the rightful heir stood in his place by my side.’
Benito spoke carefully. ‘My Lord, it’s been five years.’
Pain and anger flared in the old man’s eyes. ‘Who knows it better than I?’ But then he sagged again, staring away bleakly into the gloom. ‘Five long years indeed. But that alone is not cause to surrender all hope. The expedition was well supplied, knowing that there was every chance they could be trapped by ice for one or two or even three winters. It is not inconceivable that they might have stretched those supplies to a fifth year.’
No one responded to this for a time. It was Vincente who finally broke the silence. ‘But have you not sent ships in search of the missing fleet? And have they not returned with empty hands?’
‘Aye,’ nodded Ibanez, his sad gaze going to the single open window. ‘I’ve been sending merchantmen in pairs, heavily supplied with food and gear, every six months now, since the second anniversary of Nadal’s departure – most recently in the autumn of last year, and then again this spring. The latter pair returned but two weeks ago. And as everyone knows, they did not find my son. It is enough, the jackals say – and so forced this winter council upon me. No more searching, they insist. Nadal is lost, and I must accept it.’
He sat upright suddenly and slammed his cane against the floor. ‘But I do not accept it!’ He stared severely at the others. ‘Heed me. There is one vital discovery made by the lately returned expedition that has not yet been made public. A discovery that gives force to my hope. For something was found in the northern waters.’ He levered himself up, hand trembling upon the cane’s head, and leant to the covered shape on the table. ‘Not my son, indeed. But behold—’ And with a withered hand he pulled the sheet halfway back.
It was part of a boat, Dow saw. Curved timbers met together at an upswept stem – yes, it was the bow section of a boat the size, say, of a ship’s launch, shattered and broken off from its body. The timbers still gleamed blackly with nicre, as if freshly wet from the sea.
The Sea Lord gloated over the thing. ‘This fragment alone they found floating among the bergs. A few planks of wood only – but do you see?’ His quivering finger pointed to faded white symbols that were painted upon the planking, near to where the timbers were wrenched and broken. Writing. It was meaningless to Dow, but the others leant forward intently. ‘What do you read there, gentlemen? An I and an N and a G. And the number 4. You see it – yes? Now, three ships it was that set out with my son. The flagship, Nadal’s own ship, was the battleship Tempest. And in support were two specially converted merchantmen, the Bullion and the Bent Wing.’
There was a pause about the table as Benito and Vincente and Fidel considered each other significantly. Dow, mystified by this reference to letters, could only watch on, until Fidel noticed his puzzlement.
‘A ship’s boats are named after the ship itself,’ the first officer explained, ‘and then numbered. The Chloe, for instance, has eight boats, and they are named Chloe 1 through to Chloe 8. So you see these letters would suggest that this piece of wreckage came from a boat named the Bent Wing 4.’
‘Aye,’ nodded Ibanez. ‘The Bent Wing carried four boats. I have confirmed it’
Captain Vincente had been gazing at the floor in thought. Now he looked up, pained. ‘But my Lord, is this truly cause for hope? The drifting remains of a ship’s launch? Does that not suggest that some fatal disaster befell the Bent Wing? And perhaps the entire fleet?’
There was a febrile glint to the Sea Lord’s smile. ‘It would – save for this.’ And he pulled the sheet completely away from the wreckage. Revealed now, bolted roughly to the lower planks of the hull, near the keel, was a long strip of wood that had no place there, or on any boat. It was smooth and flat and curved up at its forward end.
Dow – used to travelling in winter upon the high plateau – knew exactly what he was looking at, and spoke before he remembered that it was not his place to do so. ‘That’s a runner – like on a sled!’
The old man nodded. ‘A sled this is indeed. A sled such as marooned sailors might fashion from a boat to escape an ice-bound ship and ferry their supplies across the snow.’ He turned to Vincente. ‘What does that suggest to you, Captain? That the fleet perished at sea? Or that it is trapped somewhere in the Ice, its men alive and trying to rescue themselves?’
‘If so,’ said Vincente, ‘they failed, as the wreckage attests.’
The Sea Lord was undaunted. ‘This attempt failed, but who knows how many others there might be. And look here—’ Now his trembling fingers traced the fractured planking of the boat, where the pale inner wood was splintered and exposed. ‘See how thin is the layer of nicre on the new wood? It is the growth of a few weeks only – from which we can surmise that this craft was wrecked only weeks before it was found. It has taken another two months to be returned here by the searchers – but even so we now can say that, as little as three months ago maybe, survivors of my son’s fleet still lived.’
Vincente’s expression remained troubled. ‘It could be read that way, my Lord. It could be read other ways as well. This wreckage may indeed have been but briefly immersed in the sea, but perhaps the boat was broken long before that, in the attempt to cross the ice, and was then held high and dry by that same ice for a year or even two, until released by last summer’s thaw to drift upon the waters. In which case it tells us nothing.’
‘Maybe,’ was Ibanez’s cold response. ‘But it is not unreasonable for me to hope otherwise. And it would be unreasonable, I say, to give up the search, and abandon those men, without one more attempt to save them.’
Benito was frowning doubtfully. ‘You mean to continue the search then, and send yet more ships north?’
The Sea Lord had hobbled back to his chair, and sank into it now with a bitter grimace. ‘Time is my enemy. I cannot hold off those vultures below much longer. For this session of the Lords, yes, I can delay – once I tell them of this new development, and show them what I’ve shown you. But come the spring session they will demand an answer from me, if Nadal has not been found. Without it, there will be open rebellion. So I have three months at most. Not time enough to send more slow, sturdy merchantmen, best suited though they are for the arctic. They would take six months to go and return. No, I must settle for one swift ship, and one truste
d captain.’
He had turned to Vincente. The question now hung unasked in the air, but Vincente himself chose not to address it directly. ‘One ship only, Lord?’ he inquired. ‘But how could one ship alone, in a mere few months, hope to make a thorough search of so vast an area?’
Ibanez’s gaze was bright as if with tears. ‘Not so vast as you might think. It is not the whole of the north that need be investigated, but rather only the place in which this wreckage was found. It was the merchantman Thorn that made the discovery, in search party with the Dolphin, near the mouth of a great gulf in the Ice Wall that they had just begun to explore. The coordinates have been recorded and could lead a skilled navigator there in as little as five weeks.’
‘A gulf, Lord?’
‘Just that. The Thorn and the Dolphin report that the Wall fell away on either side and that a passage lay open northwards, created seemingly by a warm current that came itself from the north. This gulf is treacherous, however, plagued by fogs and beset by great bergs. Indeed, the Thorn was soon caught by falling ice, and took great damage, and so the Dolphin was forced to abandon the search, to escort the stricken vessel home. It will be hazardous no doubt to return there, even more so now that it is winter. But if a brave captain were to go and dare this strange gulf, then in my heart I believe the lost fleet, and my son, may yet be found alive within it.’
Vincente nodded slowly. ‘I will go then.’
The Sea Lord took a breath. ‘Thank you, Captain.’
Benito was shaking his head, evidently disturbed. ‘But the Chloe is lately come from a long voyage – why not a ship from your own fleet, my Lord? You have many just as swift as the Chloe, surely.’
‘Indeed I do, and I was readying just such a ship. But then Vincente appeared unlooked for. He is the finest navigator in the empire – and moreover has defied the Ice once before, and survived. If this is to be the last throw, then who better to cast the dice than he?’
‘Even so,’ the king pressed, ‘a battleship alone is not a fit vessel for exploration, not without the support of merchantmen to carry supplies. What if the Chloe itself becomes trapped?’
But Vincente, having made his decision, brushed aside the objection. ‘Our route north will takes us past Haven Diaz – we will dock briefly and resupply with all haste, and prepare the Chloe for the Ice as best as time permits. But the Sea Lord is correct, speed and precision are of the essence here. There will be no time to be held back by merchantmen, or delayed by wayward steering. The Chloe, for all its age, is faster still than most; and I will not falsely deny my skill as navigator. We are the right choice.’
Benito sighed and shrugged. ‘When will you leave?’
‘Tonight,’ said Vincente, eyes upon the Sea Lord.
Ibanez gave an appreciative nod. ‘Aye, captain. Under cover of darkness would be wise. On the morrow I will report to the Lords of the Fleet all that we have discussed here, and announce that you have departed upon a last rescue mission, and that you will return by the spring. If the thing is already done, what choice will the jackals have but to wait?’
‘They won’t be happy,’ was Benito’s comment. ‘There will be fury and accusations … but yes, I think they’ll wait, one last time.’
‘Very well then,’ said the Sea Lord. ‘Vincente, I will send the captains of the Thorn and the Dolphin to you this afternoon, so that you may discuss the course of your voyage, and learn what you may from them.’
‘Thank you, my Lord.’
The old man nodded and leant on his stick as if to push himself to his feet, but Vincente forestalled him.
‘My Lord, there is one other small matter to be dealt with – the question of the boy here, and his future.’
Ibanez blinked. ‘Question, Captain? His fate is clearly prescribed. I would hardly have invited him here – and let him hear what he has just heard – otherwise. It’s an unfitting reward for one so bold perhaps, but you must have known it when you took him from his home.’
Dow felt a stab of alarm, and stared from the Sea Lord to Vincente inquiringly. But it was Fidel who answered him, his tone regretful. ‘Dow, it is the law that any foreigner who sets foot upon the Twelfth Kingdom is forbidden from ever leaving it again. It’s a precaution of security, to ensure that no detailed report of this ship ever reaches any of our subject lands.’
Dow’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. Did they mean that he was a prisoner here? Forever?
The Sea Lord was considering him kindly. ‘You will of course be our guest, and free to live whatever life you want here. The Twelfth Kingdom is after all an entire city unto itself, and there are no end of rewarding professions available to one who is willing to learn.’
But Dow had eyes only for Vincente now. ‘You didn’t tell me,’ he accused. ‘When you asked me to come, you didn’t say anything!’
Vincente stared back, apparently unmoved. ‘I did not ask – I commanded you to come. The matter was too important to permit you choice.’
‘The lad wasn’t told?’ mused the Sea Lord. ‘That is unfortunate. Nevertheless, he has seen far too much now …’
‘My Lord,’ said Vincente, sitting up formally, ‘I well understand our law, and if I was embarking now for any of the subject lands I would have no choice but to leave Dow here. And it is certain that he can never be allowed to return to New Island. But the boy has a hunger to sail. Indeed, I have broken with all custom and allowed him to train as an able seaman. And I remind you that I embark now for no land, but rather for the landless north, where there is only ice, and no chance for him to escape or to betray our secrets. I ask your permission – in acknowledgment of my debt for his aid, and for my deception in bringing him here – to take him with me.’
Ibanez too had sat up, as if considering. Then, seemingly at some sound or movement that the others did not notice, he turned to the wheeled chair. ‘Axay? You have something to say?’
‘My Lord,’ came the childlike voice, in company to an unearthly shifting of limbs beneath the gauze, ‘I must indeed speak, of little importance though this matter may seem. Our law of course is our law, not to be set aside for the sake of a single New Island boy, and I feel it in my bones that, deserved or not, he is doomed one day to be imprisoned upon this vessel – not as a guest, but as a criminal, in our deepest cell. Nonetheless, I feel too that he must go on this voyage, and that if he does not, then what little hope there is of solving the mystery of your son will become no hope at all.’
The Sea Lord stared in wonder. ‘Is this a seeing upon you?’
‘I have such ability greater than any other scapegoat perhaps, my Lord, but nay, in this matter I perceive things but darkly. Even so, it’s plain to me that this boy is a fulcrum upon which much fate turns. His riding of the whirlpool, his witnessing of the strange boat at Stone Port – these are beyond mere accidents. And the albatross cannot be ignored. It summoned him north, as I read it. I don’t know why, but if this voyage to the Ice is itself to be fateful, then it is necessary that he be there.’
Ibanez took an impressed breath and considered Dow anew. ‘Very well, Captain. Permission is granted. The lad can sail with you for now. What may happen after that, we will consider when you return.’
Vincente bowed his head. ‘My thanks, Lord.’
Now Ibanez did rise – and everyone else with him. He motioned to the guards, and one moved to the wheeled chair. ‘One last thing, my Lord,’ spoke the creature from behind the veil. ‘A word to my fellow scapegoat …’
Everyone turned to Nell, all but forgotten throughout the meeting. She stood at the far end of the table from the wheeled chair, and Dow noted her look of intense unease at being addressed by its occupant
‘Ignella of the Cave,’ said Axay, ‘it takes no seer to divine the truth about you, it is evident in your every pose and gesture. Nevertheless, I will not shame you with it now, for indeed it no longer matters. You have been caught up in a greater fate that you bargained for. You have not the gift of foretelling, I know,
but even so, a true scapegoat you will become.’
Another amazed silence greeted this, unbroken by Nell, who only stared back at the black gauze with undisguised revulsion.
Finally, with an almost embarrassed cough, the Sea Lord gestured again to his guards, and the wheeled chair was turned and pushed away. Ibanez trailed after it. The others waited respectfully as the old man and his retinue arranged themselves upon the platform, and then they bowed in farewell as it began to sink away, the hidden gears creaking into action once more. ‘Bring back my son, Captain,’ came the Sea Lord’s last command. Then he was gone, the floor rejoining itself slowly over his head.
A guard appeared at the stairwell to escort the visitors back down through the palace. Benito and Vincente moved off, deep in conversation, and the others followed behind. Dow went numbly, bewildered by all he’d just learned. That Vincente – whom he’d trusted so implicitly – could have gambled so callously with his life was a shock. That he was never to be allowed to return to his homeland – that stung hotly.
But most of all he felt a terrible humiliation, for many on board the Chloe must have known what was in store for him, and yet no one had warned him. Instead they had let him play at being a sailor, even though they knew he was doomed to spend the rest of his days imprisoned aboard the Twelfth Kingdom. Diego, for instance, had obviously known. No doubt that was why he had laughed so confidently about soon being rid of Dow.
As for Nell …
Yes, she must have known too. Why, only an hour ago, down upon the lawn, hadn’t she made sly hints about New Island prisoners of the past – taunting him, for all that he hadn’t realised it?
Dow turned to her now, to let her know, if only by a single glare, that he was aware of the cruel games she’d been playing – but Nell was walking with a blank look of shock on her face, and it reflected Dow’s own mood so exactly that he quickly looked away again. The encounter with the Twelfth Kingdom’s scapegoat, it seemed, had unsettled her deeply. A true scapegoat you will become. What in all the oceans did that refer to?
The Voyage of the Unquiet Ice Page 9