Assassin's Rise (20 page)

The two men reached the
wooden deck, and the dark one looked down on Jase as he froze in a
half-sitting, half-standing position, and then he said in a soft
voice, “How’s the arm?”

“The ... the ...”
Jase’s mind went blank, and then he looked into the dark eyes and
saw the young man he remembered hidden there and said,
“Roland?”

“Have I changed that
much?” said Roland after a moment of silence.

The wiry one clapped
Roland on the back and said, grinning, “Don’t mind him. Although he
carries the expression of a man who has stepped in dung, this is
actually his its-a-good-day-to-be-alive face. You must be from the
Swallow?”

Jase nodded stupidly as
he watched the wiry one thumping Roland on the back, waiting for
the inevitable explosion.

“Well, I’m Jeklor. I’ll
come with if you two don’t mind,” said the wiry one and before
neither Brins nor Jase could answer, he pitched his bundle into the
rowboat and hopped inside after, the boat tipping alarmingly.
“Hurry up, old horse. Times a wasting and I’ve got a business to
run,” Jeklor told Roland.

Roland stepped into the
boat and said to Jase, “If there is space on the Swallow, may
Jeklor sail with? He has business in Darma, and I would appreciate
it if he could.”

“Of ... of course,”
said Jase, confused by the turn of events. He took the oars, and he
and Brins guided the boat away from the deck.

Jase looked into
Roland’s silent face, noting the jagged scar running along his left
cheek, and a thin white scar above his left eye. He felt ashamed at
his manner. Rage had warned him that Roland might have changed,
although he did not think that Rage had anticipated a change like
this. Rage had thought he might be a broken man, but Roland was
anything but broken. He somehow seemed distant, like he was not
sitting in front of Jase at all, but Jase had the feeling that
Roland was very aware of every thing around him. He had somehow
turned ... very dangerous, he thought lamely ...

But, looking closely,
he was still the same Roland who had healed his arm, and Jase
smiled at Roland and said, “Welcome back, Roland. It’s good to see
you again.”

R
opes coiled down the side of the
Swallow and Brins and Jase reached out, pulling the ropes in. A
rope ladder followed, the ends just brushing the surface of the
ocean. Brins wrapped one of the ropes around Jeklor’s bundle and
shouted, “Away!”

As Jeklor’s bundle rose
into the air, bumping against the ships side, Roland climbed the
ladder. Stepping onto the main deck felt nostalgic, and Roland
immediately recognised Rage’s hulking figure, his beard just as
thick as he remembered, but now carrying a grey streak or two
amongst the black.

Rage showed none of the
surprise Jase did and he clapped Roland on the shoulder and then
shook his hand. “Glad to see you’re still whole, laddie.”

Roland couldn’t help
but grin. It has been a long time since anybody had called him
‘laddie’.

Jeklor stepped on deck
after Roland, proclaiming loudly, “Wealthy merchant on deck, (in
the future)” he added with a very serious look.

“I take it he’s with
you,” said Rage with an amused look.

“Don’t mind him. He’s
just caught up in his newest endeavour,” said Roland dryly.

Brins and Jase stepped
on deck last, pulling the rope ladder up behind them, sailors at
their sides straining against the thick ropes as they pulled the
rowing boat up.

“All gear stowed,
Captain,” said Jase and walked over, then adding, “Told you he’d be
there,” a broad smile on his face.

“Good thing you were
right, Jase. Split the night into three watches, we sail on the
morning tide.”

“Captain!” said Jase
and started bellowing orders at the crew.

“I’m Jeklor, Captain,”
said Jeklor and stuck his hand out.

“Welcome to the
Swallow, Jeklor. I’m Rage.” Rage turned to Roland. “I’ve prepared a
cabin for you, but ...”

“Oh, I can sleep
anywhere. Most gracious to allow me to sail with,” said Jeklor in
an easy manner. “What’s the boat used for?” he asked, glancing
around the ship.

Rage’s beard twitched.
“Her name’s the Swallow and she’s a ship – don’t forget it.”

“Right. Have you ever
thought about shipping materials – like wool and cotton and clothes
and so forth ...”

“Later, Jeklor,” said
Roland, smiling to himself at Rage’s indignation. “Rage ...”

“I’ll show you to your
cabin. Join me in the Captains Cabin later, Roland,” Rage said,
emphasizing Roland’s name.

“My pleasure,” said
Roland and he and Rage walked over to the on-deck cabins, leaving
Jeklor behind with a confused look on his face.

*

Rage poured a generous
measure of some type of golden-brown liquid into two small glass
cups, handing one to Roland.

“A spirit they brew up
in Allander. Calvana Amber – expensive, but well worth the
price.”

He knocked his glass
against Roland’s and tipped the contents down his throat, his eyes
watering a bit. Roland tipped his glass back and a ball of liquid
fire hit his stomach. Coughing and red faced he placed the cup on
the table, peering at Rage through steaming eyes.

“An acquired taste,”
said Rage serenely and then reached into his pocket, his jolly
manner turning serious. He took out Carla’s brooch, the silver
shield and leaf looking tiny in his large, calloused hand.

“Thank you,” said
Roland, his voice thick as Rage handed him the brooch. Roland ran
his finger over the glinting metal, tracing the small leaf on the
shield. All the memories crashed through his defences, and he
blinked rapidly. Rage intently studied a map on the wall, giving
Roland time. Roland clasped the brooch onto his sash, the opposite
side of the zhutou. Blade and shield, he thought. He would become
both.

For a long time Roland
and Rage talked wantonly, from weather patterns and shifting tides
to the price of corn, all the time skirting around Carla’s death
and what Roland’s plans were, until Rage finally asked him, “Who
killed her, lad?”

Roland’s face tightened
slightly, but he showed no more – Li Ho had trained him well. “His
name is Sirol Vanderman.”

Rage spluttered.
“Vanderman – from that Vanderman family!”

Roland nodded. “I’ve
heard that they are well placed – even have ties to the Duke.”

“You have no idea, lad.
Their blood ties all the way back to King Louander! The Duke of
Darma – Ralpston – is cousin to the king. Soul Vanderman again is
cousin to Ralpston. There are many more families than that involved
of course, with much closer relations and heavier claims to the
throne, but Vanderman carries enough power to make a formidable, if
not an untouchable enemy!”

“It makes no difference
if he has ties to Nandor, the God of War – I will kill Sirol
Vanderman, and possible his whole family if they prove to be a
hindrance.”

Roland spoke evenly,
not once raising his voice, and not once doubting what he said.
Rage poured himself a cup of Calvana Amber and slammed it back,
shuddering a little.

“I’m behind you all the
way, lad. Doesn’t matter who they are, they are not above paying
for what they did. But you have to realise that getting to the
Vandermans is not going to be easy.”

“Sirol can die just as
easily as I or you. But I would like to have more information on
how to get to him.”

“Well,” said Rage,
scratching his beard. “The Vanderman family lives in a mansion in
Darma, almost the bloody size of the palace, and they have an
estate somewhere to the south – cattle and corn an such things.
Don’t know much more than that.”

“That makes it
simpler,” said Roland. “He can only hide in one of two places.”

“What makes you think
he will hide, laddie? The Vandermans act like they own the air we
breathe an’ we should be grateful for their generosity of sharing
it with us – I doubt he feels shame over what he did, never mind
hiding because of it.”

“I wrote him a letter,”
said Roland, his lip curling slightly.

“You warned him you are
coming?” said Rage astounded. “Don’t know if you’re stupid or
clever, lad, but I hope it’s the latter!”

“Not a warning, no – I
simply told him the truth,” said Roland ignoring the look on Rage’s
face. “Do you know of the Assassins Guild, Rage?”

“The Assassins Guild,
eh,” said Rage and poured himself another measure. The lad kept
shocking him with the things he said. “Is that what you plan?
Taking out a contract on his name – but I warn you now, the gold
needed for a high placed family like the Vandermans you will never
gather in a lifetime. An’ that’s if the guild doesn’t hand you over
to the family themselves – dark guild that is, shouldn’t trust them
easily.”

“No, I don’t plan on
taking out a contract, but I want to contact them. I’ve heard
before that the sewers are a good bet?”

“Don’t rightly know,
lad. Never had dealings with them myself, but I’ve heard a few
stories about the guild ... dark stories. An’ Darma has expanded
much over the last hundred years or so – ye can’t just climb into
the sewers and expect to stumble onto them. It’s probably a bloody
maze underneath the city, an’ I don’t even know where you can find
an entrance to the sewers ... But just what are you planning,
laddie?”

“Just to make Sirol
pay, Rage,” said Roland. He poured himself a cup of water, sipping
it. He did not want his senses dulled by the golden spirit. They
sat in silence for a while, Rage with his brow furrowed, Roland
studying the Captains Cabin. The walls were covered with maps,
routes marked out across the seas and the floor was covered with an
old carpet, which Roland guessed used to be scarlet but now was a
reddish, brown. Various navigational instruments, still more maps
and a piece of rope laid scattered on a desk in the corner. The
cabin was sparsely furnished, filled with only the essential; there
was no pomp or extravagance. Roland thought it suited Rage
well.

“How is business with
the Swallow going?” said Roland, and Rage’s furrowed brow
immediately smoothed out.

“Good, good. Couldn’t
ask fe’ more of the old girl,” said Rage with affection. “As you
know, I ship whatever goods are available between the mainland and
Darma, but about six months ago or so, I took on an order of sheep.
Have you ever spent a month on water with sheep?” He chuckled from
the pit of his stomach. “Was right glad when we finally made it to
Darma, and the poor Swallow – had to scrub her from stern to bow
...”

Roland smiled along and
then he said, “You should lend Jeklor a bit of ear. He doesn’t look
trustworthy, but his heart’s in the right place. He’s got big
plans, and if it works out, you could add a new route to your
trade.”

Rage looked unconvinced
and Roland left the matter there. At times, Jeklor was surprisingly
ingenious and should Dragon East Apparel come off the ground, there
would be many Captains willing to sail for him, and he was sure
that Rage would take him serious then.

Roland bade Rage
goodnight and left the cabin. The night air was cool, the moon
full, and Roland leaned against the mast, looking back in the
direction of Drifters’ Hell, stroking the small brooch underneath
his cloak absentmindedly. He had felt comfortable in the village,
and had come to think of it as home, but he thought that he would
probably only visit the place once more to give Li Ho the promised
payment. He had been touched when Li Ho had refused the gold, but
he would never feel right if he didn’t pay him. And then, after he
settled matters with Vanderman, he had plans of his own in
Darma.

H
undreds of tiny orange lights
appeared in the night, bobbing in and out of view as the Swallow
climbed tall, but gentle swells.

“Land ahead!” called a
sailor from the crow’s nest.

Roland and Jeklor stood
on the forecastle deck, hands gripping the rail, their expressions
very different. Jeklor kept smiling, showing teeth, but Roland
revealed a guarded and brewing look on his face as the wind blew
his hair back.

“We made it!” whooped
Jeklor. “Two years and we’re back!
Pretty-serving-girls-looking-for-a-tumble;
fresh-bread-and-fine-wine;
people-not-looking-to-stab-you-in-the-throat – how I’ve missed you,
Darma! And why in the blue blazes do you look like you’ve stepped
onto an iron nail?”

Roland forced a thin
smile but Jeklor already had his attention fixed on the lookout.
“How long before we reach Darma?” he shouted.

“Three, four hours
–”

“But the harbour master
won’t allow the Swallow to birth at night,” said Rage from behind
them.

“How so?” asked Roland
as Jeklor choked in disappointment.

“Just the way they do
things. Not easy keeping an eye on ships coming in at night – never
know what smuggled goods (or people) they might be carrying – so
the harbour is only open during daylight ... But, I’ll send Jase
and Brins with the boat to take you to land. Might be in your
favour to arrive unnoticed ...”

“It seems that I
accumulate more and more debts as I go along,” said Roland heavily,
while Jeklor beamed at the news.

“Not a favour for you,
lad. It’s the least I can do for Carla,” said Rage, sounding oddly
bitter. Rage, Jase and Roland had a huge row during the trip. Rage
and Jase wanted to accompany Roland on his quest, but Roland would
have none of it. He would not – could not – divulge all his plans
to them: not because he did not trust them, but if his gamble
turned out to be a disaster, he would never forgive himself for
dragging them along. Revenge for Carla was only the start, the
spark that lit the fire. Danger would increasingly follow him
around, and those that had helped him, that wanted to stand with
him, would be in the most danger of all.