Beneath the Eye of God (The Commodore Ardcasl Space Adventures Book 1) (20 page)

Each night as they climbed higher and came closer to the dreaded depot, the tales around the apprentices' campfire grew ever more graphic and lurid, until Ohan found the hair at the back of his neck standing on end. Malie loved the stories and would pipe up in her tiny voice from time to time with some especially grisly aspect of the tale she feared might otherwise be overlooked.

When Ohan took his growing unease to the Commodore, he found him reclining on his pillows. He listened disinterestedly. "Fear not, young chum. Even the most nasty will trade with a trader who has something to trade."

When Ohan tried to warn him of the sinister reputation of their rapidly approaching destination, he was dismissed with, "Yes, indeed, little fellow. It does sound delightfully wicked. If we're lucky, we'll get into all sorts of trouble there." A nudge, a wink and Ohan found himself outside the wagon again. As he trudged away he decided he much preferred the old Commodore to this new one.

***

The depot turned out to be everything everyone promised. Back at the port the business of handling cargo had been spread all around the edge of the bay. Here it was concentrated in an immense field, churned and rutted by the wheels of thousands of wagons. There was bustle and activity everywhere. Cargo was being loaded and unloaded, animals changed, harness and wagons repaired, deals made and fights started. Blacksmiths' fires sizzled as animals were shod and wheels made. Chaos and confusion was everywhere yet somehow wagons arrived, unloaded, loaded up again and were on their way in the time allotted, though not without a great deal of shouting and cursing by their drivers. But even they seemed a little subdued by the place's reputation and even more by the stern-faced tax gatherers who poked into everything. Their word was final and was backed by armed horsemen who kept a close eye on everyone.

There were also a large number of open-air taverns in the depot, some little more than a plank set on two barrels. As the day wore on, a quick ale between chores turned into a quick chore between ales. By nightfall many of the drivers and even a few of the apprentices who had sworn not to, found themselves crossing the ditch that marked the edge of the depot on their way into the lurking town in search of its wicked reputation.

The Commodore and his party had their belongings open and ready when the tax gatherer approached. Ohan and Malie had been told to go for a short walk.

"A very good day to you, sir," the Commodore said with a flourish. The tax gatherer, a grim little man with a short pencil and a sheaf of dirty papers, eyed him suspiciously. "You have, no doubt, been expecting our arrival," the Commodore continued cheerily. "We are a scientific expedition here to examine the relic collection of the esteemed Blackman Nol. But first we have all of our scientific paraphernalia laid out for your inspection."

He threw his arm around the tax gatherer, enveloping him in a swirl of bright fabric that almost obscured the little man from view. "As you see, we have only the standard issue data gathering devices for field use. Nothing elaborate, of course. We are but simple scientists striving to illuminate the past. And as you see, all were duly inspected and registered at spaceport customs. You can't be too careful and I certainly don't blame you for checking. The way some people try to slip firearms into a quiet little planet like this is absolutely shocking. Personally, I don't care for weapons. They give me palpitations. All that icky blood and gore and everything."

He opened the sonar boxes. "I do love these little gadgets. I'm sure you've seen much nicer ones. Fascinating job you have, getting to poke into interesting nooks and crannies all day long. The sonar probes send waves of thingees, electricity or something, into the structures we are examining and they bounce around inside and then get scooped up by this little thing and recorded on the computer over there. It's a very nice one though not nearly as nice as the ones you've probably seen, still it suits us splendidly." He opened another case. "I love the color, don't you? Let's see. I think you plug this thing in here. . . or is it there? Anyhoo, it works beautifully. It's been a godsend. We used to have to do all the correlating with just our . . . "

The little man had, with mounting fury, been struggling to disentangle himself from the Commodore's embrace. Finally he tore himself free and turned on him in a rage. "Get away from me," he shrieked. "Let go of me. Stop talking."

An armed guard rode up. "Any trouble here?" he growled.

"Ah, just the man I've been looking for," the Commodore said cheerfully. "My friend seems a trifle overwrought. We have an appointment with Blackman Nol. Perhaps you could direct us."

"They supposed to see the boss?" the rider asked the little man.

"How should I know?" He was trying to pick up the papers he had dropped in the mud. "Nobody tells me anything."

"Our original arrangement was with Mr. Nol's brother. We heard of his untimely demise in the capital and that Mr. Nol has kindly taken charge of the family's affairs."

"The capital, eh?" The rider eyed them darkly. "We'll see about that. Take your junk over to the inn. I'll find out if he wants to see you."

"Splendid. How very kind of you. And do warn Mr. Nol that it's his brother's relics we're after and we intend to drive a hard bargain."

The tax gatherer demanded the absurdly high figure of five credits which the Commodore willingly paid, all the while complimenting him on the wonderful job he was doing. This only made the little man angrier. He stalked off in a terrible humor. "I pity his next customer," the Commodore said.

As soon as Ohan and Malie returned, Leahn spoke up. "I promised I wasn't going to ask any more questions, but I'm going to anyway. This place has changed so much since I was last here, it's frightening. All these armed guards riding around. What exactly is our plan?"

"Ah, our plan," the Commodore said thoughtfully. "Our main plan is to stay together and get into your father's house. If the skin and your uncle are both there, we deal with them and then leave."

Leahn sounded doubtful. "Leave? Do you think it will be that easy? There must be a hundred armed riders around here. I've got my sword but that's not enough to . . . "

"Actually, at the moment we have more firepower at our command than all this world's armies put together. If things go badly we can always blast our way out. The tricky part will be getting ourselves and our weapons in."

"Weapons?"

"When one is travelling fast and light, my dear, equipment has to serve a number of functions, some of which we don't always mention to spaceport customs. My ultrasonic insect repeller, for instance, is effective on bugs at low power and on people at high power. Then there's our laser dating device. Anything that can drill a small hole through a pyramid can do the same to just about anything or anyone. The boys modified it a couple of days ago. With the addition of the lighting device we used inside the pyramid, it is now an exceedingly efficient full-spectrum light and particle accelerator. We call it a laser cannon. The problem is where to hide it so it won't fall into the wrong hands." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Which of us is least likely to be suspected of carrying a laser cannon?"

Even as the Commodore asked the question, Ohan knew what the answer would be. "I don't . . ." he began.

"Of course you do, lad. Nothing to it. Step into the wagon. The boys have broken it down into several pieces and fitted it into as thin a pack as possible. They'll strap it around your middle under your shirt and no one will be the wiser. You'll just look a little chubbier than usual."

Stripped of its gas analyzer and age-correlating scale, the laser consisted of battery packs, capacitors, boosters and a thin five-foot-long bundle of rods and tubes. These had been broken down into foot-long sections and fitted into separate pockets in a length of fabric that resembled an old-fashioned corset. Once back in his baggy shirt, jacket, coat and trousers, Ohan looked little different that he had before. But he could no longer bend at the waist or sit down.

The Commodore pronounced the effect splendid. Ohan mentioned his lack of mobility. "Good," the Commodore said absently. "I want you and Malie to stay here in the depot. There are plenty of wagons coming and going. Move around and look like you belong. Nobody notices children. The rest of us will take our gear over to the inn, get a room and see what happens. Stay where you can keep an eye on the front door. If Nol comes for us and it looks like we can get to the house without arousing suspicion, I'll give a signal like this." He laid a finger beside his nose. "That will be the sign for you two to come and join us. Whatever happens, our goal is to get into that house."

With that, he and the twins picked up their packs and set out for town. Leahn in her dark robe followed close behind. Ohan was left surrounded by wagons, horses, cursing drivers, piles of barrels, boxes and Malie. She smiled at him. She was holding her basket.

***

There was one street in the town and one inn on the street. It was newly built from the logs that had been cleared to make room for it. The Commodore and the others were no more than inside the door when they were confronted by three men. One was the rider they had met earlier. "You the ones want to see Blackman Nol?" the largest of the three, obviously in charge, demanded.

"We've come all the way from the capital," the Commodore began, "and we . . ."

"That don't cut no ice around here," the big man sneered. "And I don't know that Blackman Nol is particularly interested in seeing you. But if you want to wait around for a few days he might decide to . . . "

He was staring at Leahn. "What the devil is that?"

"What? Oh, you've noticed my new bodyguard. I'm forced to carry a great deal of cash in my business. My friends at the capital assigned him to guard it. I feel ever so much more secure. He's a Cirian, you know. They're said to be exceedingly fierce and . . ."

"Cash, eh? That might be of interest to Mr. Nol. As for this bird, grab him, men. Anything that comes wrapped like that, I like to take a look inside."

The other two were on Leahn in an instant, pinning her arms before she had a chance to use the dagger that sprang to her hand. The big man grabbed her weapon and, with a single expert slice, cut her robe open from hood to waist. He stepped back, astonished.

"Well, well. If this is what Cirian men look like, I'd like to see the women. Get that robe off her. Take the sword too. Wait a minute . . ." He looked closely at the struggling girl, then roughly tore off her goggles. "I know you. You're one of the old man's daughters, the good looking one who refused to cooperate."

"And I know you, Hossen Em," Leahn spat. "Free me for just a moment and I'll show you cooperation."

"Tie her good and tight. And as for the rest of you," he turned menacingly on the Commodore, "well, fatso, I think you'll all get to see Blackman Nol right away. Search them thoroughly. We don't want any more surprises."

The Commodore already had his hands in the air. "I assure you, sir, I am as dumfounded as you. I had it on the best authority that this young woman was a man. And she's not the least bit Cirian. I'm afraid I've been duped. I do apologize."

"You'll do more than that before Blackman Nol finishes with you. Call a carriage," he ordered his men. "We'll let Nol sort this out."

***

Ohan and Malie had moved farther down the line of wagons and found shelter among some barrels of salted fish. He was trying to keep his eye on the front of the inn while Malie kept tugging at his sleeve. "I have to go to the bathroom, Ohan."

"Oh dear," he sighed. "Go over by those crates and come right back." He settled himself uncomfortably between two barrels. He was admiring a carriage that had driven up in front of the inn when the Commodore and twins appeared on the steps. He was about to step out for a better view when Leahn emerged from the doorway dressed only in her tunic. Her robe and sword belt were gone. As he stood staring, they climbed into the carriage and were driven away.

He couldn't think. He couldn't move. They had taken Leahn. Her disguise hadn't fooled them. They had taken them all. Only he was left. He had to save them.

That snapped him out of it. That was ridiculous. How could he save anyone? He had to try. He and Malie. And Feathered Shield. He was a great warrior. He would know what to do. Where was Malie? He remembered. He ran out to get her and was bowled over by someone running past. He tried to get to his feet but wasn't able to bend in the middle. Then Malie rushed by.

"They stole my basket," she shouted and was gone.

Chapter 13

The house was big. Solidly built of stone and timber by the colonists long ago, it sat among old trees at the top of the hill.

Blackman Nol greeted them affably at the door, only momentarily surprised to see Leahn. An unexceptional looking man of medium height, he greeted the Commodore warmly. "I heard that we had some unusual visitors, but I had no idea. And you seem to have brought my niece, Leahn, with you."

"Disguised and armed she was," Hossen Em said. "And still swearing vengeance against you."

"Tsk, tsk." Blackman Nol shook his head sadly at Leahn. "Never tamed your violent nature? Well, it looks as if we'll have some time together. Perhaps we can correct that."

He turned to the Commodore. "And you, sir. Correct me if I'm wrong but it would seem to be a rather unfriendly act to bring this poor unstable girl here, armed and in disguise. One might think you bear me some ill will, yet to the best of my knowledge, we have never met."

"Ardcasl's the name, sir. Commodore Ardcasl. I hope you will call me Commodore. All my friends do. And as for your thoughts about your unfortunate niece, sir, they mirror my own. I was pondering that very question during the short ride up to your lovely home and I arrived at the same conclusion you did. Someone concealed this young woman—Leahn did you say her name was? Someone concealed her in our party, knowing that we intended to visit you and hoping, I fear, that she would do you an injury. I must confess that I can put no other meaning on it, sir."

"Nor can I, Commodore." Nol smiled icily.

"Then, of course, the question occurred to me, who would do such a thing? And I can see from your point of view that you might well suspect myself and my associates . . ."

"Indeed I might."

"As you yourself said, we've never met. But alas," the Commodore sighed sadly, "we are both men of the world and there are those who would do such deeds for money or the hope of power, though I hasten to assure you that we are not such men. We are simple men of science and I believe I have a document in my case that will convince you of our innocence in whatever dark deed your brave lieutenant has so alertly forestalled."

Nol paused a moment in thought, then asked his "brave lieutenant" whether or not his guests had been armed.

'Your niece had these." Em held up the big sword and Leahn's two throwing knives.

Nol removed the sword carefully from its scabbard. "What a lovely gift, Leahn. Just the thing for my collection. What about the others?"

"The two strange ones were unarmed. The fat one might as well have been. He had this." Em held up a tiny ornate dagger, its hilt encrusted with gems.

"A woman's weapon," Nol sneered. "You didn't expect to do much damage with this?"

The Commodore sighed. "I must confess I was attracted to it more as a pretty trinket than as a weapon of defense, even with the money I was carrying. But what need had I for weapons? I had been promised a genuine Cirian bodyguard." He glared accusingly at Leahn.

"What's in their luggage?" Nol asked.

"A lot of maps and drawings and some fancy machinery."

"Machinery eh? I'm very interested in machinery, Commodore. You'll have to show me exactly how everything works."

"Ah, well, it's just a couple of simple little devices. I'm sure you'd find them . . ."

"I insist."

"Then naturally I'd be delighted. And you should find the governor's letter I mentioned right there in the top corner of the map case, rolled up with the aerial surveys."

"The governor?" Nol snatched the letter from Em. "That's impossible. I've paid him plenty to keep out of my affairs."

"I may be wrong but it's been my experience that people you buy tend to come unbought as soon as a better offer comes along. I suppose they expected I'd throw that letter away but, well, I'm a saver. Some people just toss things aside. I keep things. It's just the way I am. I suppose it's . . ."

Nol glared at the Commodore. "All this says is that they're worried about your safety and that this Cirian is to be your bodyguard. It's not even signed by the governor. It's signed by a secretary."

"Indeed. It does seem to be deliberately vague and even that signature could be a forgery. But there it was with this chap . . . uh, this young woman who met us when we arrived by aircar on the coast."

"Aircar?"

"One of the governor's own, flown by his personal pilot. It picked us up after our survey of the forest and deposited us on the coast near the port."

"Perhaps that's why none of my informants saw you on the coast road."

"And there was this supposed Cirian with this letter. I assumed it was simply the governor being thoughtful when in fact, it was some kind of plot to allow this poor deranged girl to murder you."

Blackman Nol tucked the Commodore's letter into his pocket thoughtfully. "Perhaps I have misjudged you, sir. Just to show there are no hard feelings, here's your purse and your toy knife back." He tossed them to the Commodore who caught the purse clumsily but let the dagger clatter to the floor.

"And as for our little mystery," Nol turned to Leahn, "we'll soon get it straightened out, as soon as I have a chance to, uh, question my pretty niece. My how you've grown since last I saw you. I'm sure you'll tell me all about it and exactly who's responsible. And when I find out," the veins in his neck began to stand out, "even if it's the governor himself, he'll wish he never heard the name of Blackman Nol."

Quickly collecting himself, Nol turned to the Commodore with a smile. "But first we'll let you and your, uh, friends freshen up and then join us for supper. That's it! All her sisters will welcome dear Leahn back to her father's house." He motioned to his lieutenant. "Tell your wife, Em. Have her see to it. I want a dinner party to welcome Leahn and our guests."

"That's very kind of you," the Commodore said. "But we don't want to impose."

"I insist."

"In that case, we would be delighted."

"Em will see to your needs. He will send one of my men with each of you at all times, just to see that you don't get lost. Purely a precaution, you understand. Nothing personal."

"Of course."

"And as for you, dear niece, much as I'd like to attend to you now, I have other business to take care of. Besides, I wouldn't want you to be too, uh, tired for your reunion with your sisters. But after that, later this evening, we'll have a nice long chat and you will tell me about all your recent activities."

He made a slight bow. "In the meantime, I must be off." He paused at the door and smiled at his lieutenant. "And Em, if she escapes, it's your life."

"Charming fellow," the Commodore said to the glowering Em after Nol had left. "Must be an exciting job, working for him. You never know what's going to happen next. He did say we could freshen up. It would be nice to wash off some of the dust from the road."

He smiled at Leahn, still firmly in Em's grip. "And you, my dear, whatever misguided thoughts you may have harbored, I'm sure you see the error of your ways. Mr. Nol strikes me as a reasonable fellow. He may be a trifle peeved just now but I'm sure he'll calm down."

He headed for the door and Em sent one of his men hurrying after him. They almost collided as the Commodore turned to deliver one last comment. "Yes, my dear, I'm sure he'll change his mind. It's been my experience that few things are as constant in this life as the certainty of change. Don't you find that to be true, Mr. Em?" With that, he was gone.

***

"Turn left."

Malie turned.

"That's not your left."

Malie turned the other way. "I don't see them," she said.

"They're down between those two wagons." Feathered Shield spoke inside her head.

"Are they hiding?"

"No. They're chattering like fools. They've made a nest for themselves among those crates. The entrance is in the corner. Uh, oh. They're looking inside the basket."

"There's nothing in here but a bunch of old clothes. Hardly worth selling for rags. Wait a minute. What's th . . . oh, ugh!"

"Now you've done it. I hoped I'd get here before you saw that. If you've made her angry, you've had it."

"What? Who are you? Honest, we didn't mean to . . . We found this . . . Hey! You're just a little kid."

"Dummy. It's the girl you stole the basket from. How did you find us? Is anybody with you?"

"Of course somebody's with me. That skull in the basket's with me. That's my grandmother. She was a witch. I tried to get here in time to save you. Even a couple of small-time thieves who steal baskets from little kids don't deserve the horrible death that awaits you now."

"Small-time? Horrible death? Wait a minute."

Two empty crates had been turned on their sides to make a small room among the stacks of old boxes. A single candle illuminated the piles of rags that served as beds for the two scruffy boys who were edging away into the farthest corner.

The grinning skull began to glow with sparks of green fire.

"You can't kid us. This is some kind of trick," one of them whispered with transparently false bravado.

"Have you ever seen a person who was struck by green lightning?" Malie asked pleasantly. "It kind of blasts your insides out and leaves your blackened skin and bones standing there, burned and empty. Green lightning is the worst kind there is, you know."

"Once I saw a tree stump they said was hit by regular lightning," one of the cowering boys stammered. "It just stood there, all burned and empty."

"It's the same with people," Malie said. "Only the smell is a lot worse. Which one of you wants it first?"

"How about him? Listen, we're really sorry about your grandmother, your basket and everything. Can't you call her off, tell her we're sorry?"

Malie thought about it. "I suppose I could. But you'd have to promise never to steal from little girls again."

"We do. We won't ever again. There aren't hardly no little girls around here anyway."

"OK. It's a deal." The green fire disappeared. Malie arranged her clothes in the basket and put the lid back on. "My name is Malie. Have you got anything to eat?"

"Sure. Anything you want. My name's Erig. That's Feren. He's the one who took your grandmother's basket. I didn't want him to." He was rummaging in a corner. "Actually, all we've got are these stale bread crusts, this piece of cheese and a little bit of wine left in a bottle we found."

Malie ate it all, then surveyed the tiny room. "This is pretty nice. What do you guys do around here besides steal little kid's baskets?"

"We just kind of hang around," Feren said. "Mostly we pick pockets and roll drunks."

Malie was impressed. "Don't you ever get caught?"

"Naw. We're pretty good," Erig bragged. "If we do, we tell 'em about our poor sick ma and our fifteen brothers and sisters. They just beat on us a little and let us go. One guy even cried and gave me two coppers for my ma. He was pretty drunk."

"It sounds like fun. Would you teach me to do it?"

The boys were delighted to show off for an appreciative audience. Darkness came early to the mountain-ringed depot. The makeshift bars did a good business night or day and there were always candidates for the boys' attention staggering off in the wrong direction among the maze of cargo boxes.

They showed Malie all the variations of their trade. Easiest were the drunks collapsed in a heap sleeping it off. Though these had been known to rouse themselves into semi-consciousness and begin slashing before they could be disarmed, the boys generally considered such pickings as too easy for professionals such as themselves.

They much preferred the more exciting and dangerous interaction with victims who still retained borderline mobility and wit. These were assisted into the maze by the helpful lads who guided their unsteady course, listened to their sad stories and skillfully picked their pockets.

Others were enticed to meetings with nonexistent sisters anxious to show the drivers a good time without their having to risk the dangers of the ladies of the town who were well-known for taking all one's money while giving little in return. The scene of the assignation turned out to be empty except for the waiting boy who clubbed the already unsteady Lothario into insensibility.

Malie never had such an exciting evening. The boys were good teachers and she was an apt pupil. She enthusiastically joined in on all the variations, showing special skill in luring victims to see her "sister" described in such glowing terms and bearing a striking resemblance to Leahn, that some of her potential customers became so excited it took both boys and several blows to subdue them.

Erig and Feren had to admit that there were two drawbacks to their profession. One was that the drivers had very little money. By the time they had gotten themselves into a condition that the boys could safely handle, they had already spent the few coppers they started with. The boys had to settle for loose change, knives, boots and whatever else they could find with resale value.