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Sands of Memory

Page 6

by Melissa McShane


  “So? It’s not a pirate ship. And I doubt Master Delucco is that quick off the mark to hire a whole ship to come after us.”

  Alaric shook his head. “I know. I’m just being paranoid again.”

  “Your paranoia has saved our lives, so I cannot regret it,” Perrin said, coming up to join them. “It is a beautiful evening, is it not?”

  “Did you speak with Cressida, or just send her a message?” Sienne asked before she could stop herself.

  “We spoke. They had just stopped for the evening, and all is well, though there was no reason to think otherwise.” Perrin tied his hair, which whipped around his face in the brisk wind, back from his eyes more securely. “I still wish I had gone with them, and yes, I know it is a selfish wish, so do not remind me of my duty.”

  “Something else is wrong,” Dianthe said, regarding him closely.

  Perrin glanced at her and a wry half-smile touched his lips. “Not wrong,” he said. “It is just that it is something I have…not wished for, exactly, but allowed myself to idly dream of. My family appearing on my doorstep, that is, rejecting my father’s strictures and returning to me. My feelings at the moment are a muddle—anger at my father, joy at seeing my children, humiliation at being able to do so little for them and the satisfaction of having, to some extent, won the day. And now we are separated again. It is a tumultuous time.”

  “I think it’s wonderful that Cressida’s first thought was to come to you,” Sienne declared.

  “That, too, warms my heart,” Perrin said. He leaned on the rail and looked off into the distance as if he could see past the horizon to Fioretti and, then, to wherever the Verannus horde had stopped for the night. “That ship is rather close, is it not?”

  “It’s nothing,” Alaric said.

  Sienne yawned. “I’m suddenly very tired,” she said. “All that food, and…it’s been a busy day. I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Try not to trip over me when you all come in later.”

  The small, stuffy room felt even stuffier after the brisk breezes of the deck. Sienne made a few breezes of her own, but succeeded only in moving the warm air from one side to the other. Sighing, she lay down on her bedroll and extinguished her lights. The ship’s movement was a gentle rocking that was as good as a lullaby, and between that and the soft creaking of the boards and the distant murmur of voices, she was asleep in minutes.

  She woke only briefly, when Alaric settled in beside her, and fell back to dreaming of being an infant cradled in her mother’s arms as they flew across the ocean waves, far faster than the Wave’s Crest could travel, passing sea serpents like jeweled snakes until they reached the southern continent, which in her dream became Omeira. Then she was walking the streets of Chirantan, searching for someone who knew where Ma’tzehar was, only to be told it was actually outside Beneddo and she’d passed it dozens of times in her childhood without knowing.

  When she woke for real, it was to a sense of confusion heightened by the impenetrable blackness of her surroundings. She heard Alaric’s deep breathing nearby, and Dianthe’s snoring, and that reminded her where she was. Breathing slowly, she let the dream fade into memory. Then she rose, careful not to disturb anyone, and made her way out of the cubby and across the mess room, now filled with hammocks. She had no idea what time it was and didn’t want to disturb anyone’s sleep by making a light to read her watch. Enough light filtered through the net covering the cargo hole above that she didn’t run into anyone, and she found the head and used it with only a little trouble.

  After her adventure with the nautical facilities, she felt alert and rested. Rather than return to their quarters, she decided to go up on deck and watch the sun rise. It was her favorite time when they were out in the wilderness, when she was on watch in the predawn hours, and this was just a different kind of wilderness.

  The sky was overcast, and except for the lanterns winking at the ship’s front and back and lashed to the masts, they might have been sailing through a black night sky, warm and damp and comfortably quiet. Sienne fumbled her way to the prow and used her magical sense of true north to get her bearings. They were still sailing southwest, toward Sileas. She turned to face east, but saw not a glimmer of sunrise. She groped for her pocket watch, but decided against making a light again, this time because it felt wrong to disturb the peaceful darkness. Sunrise would come soon enough.

  She stood, listened to the footsteps of the sailors and their quiet voices, and swayed with the movement of the ship, until someone approached. “I wondered where you’d gone,” Alaric said, coming to stand beside her. “Feel better?”

  “Much. It’s such a beautiful morning.”

  “Only you would think that when the sun’s not yet up and it’s blacker than a crow’s heart.”

  “I like this time of day. It’s invigorating.”

  Alaric took her hand and drew her into his embrace. “Too bad we’re not in a position to do anything about how invigorated you are.”

  “Mmm. You’re always more amorous in the mornings.”

  “Tell me it’s not your favorite way to wake up.” He kissed her lightly, sending a shiver through her.

  “It really is. Too bad we don’t have one of those beds you mentioned. You could show me how to use it.”

  “I’m not going to hear the end of that for a while, am I?”

  “I just had no idea your history was so varied and interesting. You shouldn’t be ashamed.”

  “I’m not ashamed. It’s just indelicate, talking about former lovers with the woman who holds your heart.”

  That made her shiver again. “You’re so honorable. I love that about you.”

  “I love your complete lack of jealousy.” He kissed her again, more deeply, and she leaned into his kiss and wished the illusion of privacy afforded by the darkness weren’t an illusion. “There’s that ship again,” he said, confusing her briefly. “Or its lights, anyway.”

  “Maybe we’ll leave them behind in Sileas. We’re almost there, aren’t we?”

  “The captain said we’d be arriving around dawn, and it’s dawn now.”

  Sure enough, Sienne saw a thread of gold across the horizon, and the black clouds had turned charcoal gray. Birds flew past, calling to each other in their hoarse voices like housewives shouting news to their neighbors. And far ahead, gleaming like stars fallen to earth, lay the lights of Sileas. The land made a bulge blacker than the clouds across the horizon. “This would have taken us two weeks if we’d gone on foot,” she marveled.

  “Let’s go below,” Alaric said. “If we’re coming into port, the sailors will be busy, and I don’t want to get in their way.”

  “Hoy, the ship!”

  The voice was faint, but unmistakable. A few sailors stopped what they were doing to look off to the left, where the mystery ship was approaching, then went back to their business. The voice cried out again. This time, one of the sailors swung down from the rigging and went below. Sienne and Alaric crossed the deck to where they could see the ship more clearly. It was close enough to make out movement on its deck, though not to identify individual people. “I wonder what they want?” Sienne said.

  Alaric didn’t reply. His face was grim in the low light. “I don’t like this,” he said.

  “It can’t possibly be to do with us.”

  Noise at the ladder made Sienne turn. Captain Talvanus, her head bare and her heavy coat rumpled, stumped up the steps and crossed to where they stood. “What do you want?” she shouted, sounding irritated.

  “You’re harboring fugitives,” the voice said. “Give them up now or face the consequences.”

  5

  Alaric swore. Talvanus immediately turned on him. “Are you fleeing justice?” she asked, her voice deeper and angrier than before. “How dare you—”

  “We’re not fugitives,” Alaric said. “But we may have given someone the impression that we’re sheltering fugitives.”

  “And dragged me into it. Thanks so much.” She cupped her hands around her mou
th and shouted, “There’s no one here doesn’t have a right to be. You’ve got the wrong ship.”

  “We’re going to have to search your ship.”

  “By Averran, that’s too much. Search my ship,” Talvanus muttered. “You’ve no right to search anything,” she shouted back. “Back off, or I’ll have the law on you.”

  “That tells us you have something to hide. An honest ship would allow a search.”

  “For all I know, you’re pirates looking to make a quick profit.” To the nearby sailors, she said, “Ready the port and starboard cannons. This may get ugly.” She strode away, calling out more commands that made no sense to Sienne.

  They were close enough now to the mystery ship that they could see the speaker, a short man Sienne didn’t recognize. As they watched, he turned away from the rail and disappeared below deck. “So Master Delucco was faster off the mark than we’d thought,” Alaric said. “That’s unnerving.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Sienne said. “He’d have had to learn we were leaving town, then that we were taking ship, then which ship. And then he’d have to find another ship leaving the same time and heading the same direction. How could he have managed that in only a few hours?”

  “We have to tell the others,” Alaric said, heading for the ladder. “And be prepared for a fight.”

  They found Kalanath awake and Perrin and Dianthe still sleeping. Both roused drearily, with much yawning. “Did anyone think to inquire as to the possibility of coffee?” Perrin asked.

  “No time for that,” Alaric said. “It seems Master Delucco has found us.”

  That woke Perrin completely. “Impossible.”

  “The ship that was following us has demanded we give over our fugitives,” Alaric said. “It may be impossible, but it’s true.”

  “What do we do?” Dianthe asked. “We can’t hand over people who aren’t here. And once they find out Cressida and the children aren’t on board, they’ll start to search elsewhere.”

  “The captain won’t let them search the ship,” Alaric said. “We can keep the illusion going so long as she doesn’t give in.”

  Someone ran past their door, boots tromping hard on the deck, and a door opened and slammed shut nearby. “What was that, I wonder?” Perrin said.

  “Let’s get up on deck,” Alaric said. “We want them to see us and believe the Deluccos are here.”

  The sky had lightened considerably when they returned to the deck. The mystery ship was much closer. Talvanus paced the deck near the wheel, speaking in a low voice to the helmswoman. “You people are bad luck,” she told them as they emerged from below deck. “Whoever that is, they’re determined on boarding us and taking you away. Or whoever it is they think I’m harboring. Why couldn’t you have picked some other ship? Amely Vispatis’s, for preference. That woman can’t have enough bad luck as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Will they open fire?” Alaric said.

  “Maybe. We’re within sight of Sileas, so it’s unlikely. But as desperate as that man is, I wouldn’t count on it.” Talvanus chewed her lower lip in thought. “If they try to board, will you fight?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. I’ll be damned if I give over control of my ship to somebody who thinks he’s got a mandate from God to hunt these fugitives down.”

  “Captain!” The man on the other ship waved to get Talvanus’s attention. “We’re preparing to board. We just want our rightful prey. Give them up, and it doesn’t have to end in bloodshed.”

  “There’s nobody aboard named Sestura, Chaperi, or Wessil,” Talvanus shouted back. “Back off, or I’ll have the harbor patrol on you.”

  Sienne blinked. “What did you say those names were?”

  Talvanus said, “It’s who they’re after. Sestura, Chaperi, and Wessil. Those aren’t your friends?”

  “No,” Alaric said. “Unless they’re playing an unnecessarily deep game, they’re not after us.”

  Talvanus turned toward him. “What are you saying? That by some incredible coincidence, you happen to be fleeing justice just as this other ship comes after a different set of fugitives?”

  “We’re not fleeing. And I don’t believe in coincidence.”

  An explosion shattered the morning air, and Alaric grabbed Sienne and pulled her into the shelter of his body as shards of wood flew everywhere. Talvanus swore. “That’s it,” she said. “Bring her about, and ready the port cannons!”

  “That was a warning, captain! We’re coming alongside now,” the man shouted.

  Sienne stepped away from Alaric and surveyed the other ship’s masts and rigging as the Wave’s Crest swung in a wide arc, turning to meet the mystery ship. Behind her, Ghrita said, “What is going on?”

  “We’re about to repel boarders,” Alaric said. “Do you know how to fight?”

  “I can take care of myself, yes.”

  “Captain Talvanus,” Sienne said. “Captain!” The captain ignored her, her eyes on the other ship. Sienne gave up and stepped forward to the rail. The man had said it was a warning shot, and if he’d wanted them dead, he could have followed it up with several more. Well, he wasn’t the only one who could fire off a warning. Sienne opened her spellbook to scorch and read off the evocation, casting quick glances at the mystery ship to make sure no one was aiming a cannon at her. The Wave’s Crest continued to swing around, and now it seemed the mystery ship was alert to the danger it was in, because sailors were swarming over the cannons on its deck, bringing them to bear. It didn’t matter.

  Sienne read off the last syllables of scorch and a flickering ball of orange flame shot away from her. It plowed across the enemy ship’s deck, burning a furrow through its planks and starting little fires wherever it passed. Sailors screamed and threw themselves out of its way. Sienne backed up, bumped into Alaric, and the Wave’s Crest’s cannons pounded away at the mystery ship’s sides.

  Alaric grabbed Sienne and bore her to the deck as the other ship returned fire. More sailors screamed, and the air was full of the stink of gunpowder clouds, fogging Sienne’s vision. She coughed, tried to rise, and felt Alaric’s heavy hand on her shoulder. “Stay down!” he shouted. “They’re going to board!”

  A great grinding sound rose over the shrieks and the cracking of wood under stress, and dim shapes lurched out of the gunpowder fog, hurtling over the rail with swords and knives drawn. Alaric cursed and reached for a sword that wasn’t there. “Perrin!” he shouted, and picked up a length of shattered wood flung free by the last barrage.

  Perrin appeared out of the fog, muttering an invocation. Pearly light flared, and a shield radiated out from his left arm. “Go, go!” he said, helping Sienne rise. Sienne let her spellbook fall open to a new spell and began reading, shifting position as she did. The spell built within her, filling her chest with a terrible aching pressure that grew and grew until it burst out of her as the evocation shout.

  A dozen assailants stumbled away from her, then dropped, paralyzed. One who’d been perched on the rail toppled and fell into the ocean. Sienne screamed and dove for him, but was restrained by Perrin. “You cannot help him!” he said.

  “I can,” Sienne said, flipping pages and reading as quickly as she dared. Which syllable had to be altered? If she guessed wrong—

  Blood filled her mouth as she read the sharp syllables of the summoning, picturing the creature in her mind. For a moment, as she reached the end, she thought she’d failed. Then a pale shape shimmered into being three feet above the water, and with a chattering burst of sound, dove beneath the waves. “Save him!” Sienne commanded the dolphin. It was all she had time for, because Perrin was hauling her away from the melee and maneuvering her behind his shield.

  “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen you do,” he said, breathing heavily. “I suppose you did not even notice the man who attempted to remove your head from your body?”

  “No,” Sienne said. “But—”

  “No need to explain. I could not have let him drown,
either.” Perrin’s shield popped and vanished. “There is something about this encounter I dislike.”

  “Me too. If all he wanted was to destroy us, he might have unloaded all those cannons instead of firing just one when we were unprepared. But why not wait until we were both in harbor and negotiate properly, if he has a legitimate right to pursue this fugitive?”

  She rose up to cast shout again, but had to desist because the Wave’s Crest sailors, as well as her friends, had engaged with the enemy—if enemy it was. No shout, no scream, no fury—Sienne turned to force and blasted a couple of enemy sailors as Perrin once again invoked a shield to defend them both. Alaric had taken someone else’s sword and was laying about him with a snarling fury. Talvanus fought near him, her jeweled knife drawn. Despite the shortness of the blade, the captain had no trouble fending off attackers armed with swords. And Ghrita, unarmed, beat back two opponents with hands and feet alone in a way Sienne had only ever seen Kalanath do.

  Unexpected movement against the background of the melee drew Sienne’s eye. The man who’d first spoken to them was making his way toward Talvanus, shouting things Sienne couldn’t hear over the screaming. Sienne saw the spellbook in his hands and fear gripped her. She gabbled out force again, feeling time slow to a crawl the way it always did when she knew she would be too late. She was still several syllables from the end when the man cast shout, catching Talvanus and Alaric and another dozen or more sailors from both sides in its effect. Sienne screamed, disrupting her spell, and the man turned to face her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I had to stop it before it went too far.”

  Sienne looked around, past the pearly gray glow of Perrin’s shield. Men and women lay bleeding or dead across the deck, or paralyzed by shout. Beyond the wizard, Kalanath slammed the end of his staff into his opponent’s head and advanced on the wizard.

  “Has it not already gone too far?” Perrin said, not lowering his shield.

  “I have a right to pursue justice,” the wizard said. “I hoped the captain would see sense.”

 

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