By Blood Betrayed (The Kingsblood Chronicles) (36 page)

“I do hope that you intend to stay for dinner,” Kalra said. “With guests, I think Gil will agree to slaughter one of the chickens.” She nudged Lian’s arm gently as she passed him. “I hate to admit it, but I do grow rather tired of fish for dinner all the time.” Her eyes sparkled with good humor.

“I’m sorry, Lady Kalra,” he replied earnestly, “but I must make my acquaintance with the
Searcher’s
master tonight. They may depart at any time, and I don’t want to miss the opportunity.”

She sighed, “Well, I doubt that they’ll be putting out any time soon, Alan. The main spar is down, and it’ll be a few days’ work to get it remounted, barring the use of spells. They have a mage, but my impression of him is that he’s a war mage, not one of the more, um,
useful
sorts.”

He cocked his head at her. “The barkeep mentioned him as well. I got the impression that she didn’t really care for him.” Kalra seemed to be level-headed, and hadn’t given Snog the hard time Lian had expected. He wanted to know her opinion of the sorceror.

“It’s a mite unusual for our burly barkeeper to speak ill of anyone,” Kalra said. “I will say that Reidar is a strange man, but I don’t feel threatened by him. I know from the talk I’ve heard of the
Searcher’s
crew that he is a skilled warrior as well as a mage, and that he’s apparently responsible for the ship’s survival. I don’t know what happened to them. None of them will speak of it, but it was bad enough to nearly sink the
Searcher
.”

“It may seem a little ghoulish to ask this, Lady Kalra, but how many men did they lose?” he asked.

“It’s an understandable question,” she replied, hanging the curry comb on its hook and wiping her hands on her apron. “I gather that they lost quite a few sailors, but not very many of the actual warriors. If you don’t know much about ships, you may find yourself hiring passage rather than finding a position with them.”

He chuckled, “I fear that my knowledge of seamanship is reserved to abject seasickness, lady. I’m a fast learner, though.”

She smiled at his comment. “Most captains don’t want green recruits for sailors, even if they learn fast. As far as I know, they haven’t tried to recruit from either the
Gull
or the fishermen, so I doubt you’d have any luck. Still, I will wish you good luck.” She smiled at him and went back into the house, calling over her shoulder, “Your room is the first one inside the back door, which will not be locked.”

“My thanks, lady,” he called back, turning to Snog. “Let’s go back to the tavern.”

“More fish fer us, milord?” he asked eagerly, showing his pointed teeth again. Lian had been amazed at how much pork he’d eaten in Greythorn City, and didn’t doubt that the goblin could effortlessly put away still more of the tavern’s fish.

When they returned to the tavern, the officers from the
Golden Gull
were already there, lounging at the largest of the tables and nursing cups. They turned hostile eyes toward the goblin, but held their tongues. Lian knew that later, when the men became drunk, surrounded by their shipmates, that might change.

Snog was thinking this as well, and said, “I mislike the look they be givin’ me, lord. Mayhap I best wait in the room?”

“No, Snog,” he said. “We’ll be joined by the
Govlish
from the
Searcher
. I don’t expect there’ll be trouble.”

“I forgot the big lads, milord,” he said, relaxing the set of his shoulders a little. “Yer right, o’ course.”

They returned to the table they’d used before and Shana promptly brought them more ale. Lian tossed her another copper from the change the mayor’s wife had given him. Again, he didn’t see her hands move, but the coin vanished from the air before her.

Is that some kind of spell?
Lian asked Gem.

Not that I could see. Perhaps she is a mystic?
she pondered to Lian. Mystics could perform magic-like “tricks” by using only the power of their minds. They were much rarer than the witchbreed, and their powers were not nearly as impressive.

Could be. Maybe she’s just that good
. He drank some ale to hide his internal dialogue. “Bring the goblin some more fish when you have a chance, barkeep,” Lian said to Shana, “without the ashes this time.” She nodded curtly.

Shana moved on to the officers’ table and asked them if they wanted more ale.

“Nay, good woman,” said the
Gull’s
captain. “We’re takin’ the ebb-tide. Seems a mite too many unsavory folk ‘r in town, an’ my crew’s achin’ to be leavin’.” With a pointed glare at the goblin, he rose and alerted his men with a gesture. They bolted the remainder of their ale and followed their captain out.

Outside, the evening breeze from the ocean had sprung up, and the temperature in the tavern dropped from sweltering to pleasant. Out on the docks, the crewmen of the
Searcher
were finishing up their day’s work, and several of them paused to watch the
Golden Gull
begin pulling away from the dock. Lian could see that the men were turning a capstan on the afterdeck, and that a rope or cable was feeding through it. It didn’t, however, haul up an anchor.

“Shana?” he asked as the barkeep blocked the door open to allow the seabreeze to enter the tavern. “How are they moving the ship?”

She glanced up and replied, “There be cables buried in the bottom of the bay, milord, left over from older, more prosperous days. The Companion Shaidrak designed ‘em, he did.” She made a small gesture with her hands when she said the vampire’s name, her thumb and forefinger pressed together and her other three fingers outstretched and pointed at the ground.

“There be devices o’ his that have a pulley in ‘em, an’ they slip the cable through it. As the mates turn the capstan, it moves the mechanism and drags the ship,” she explained.

Lian was amazed, and full of questions. He wanted very much to see these pulley devices, but neither his interest nor his questions would fit with his persona. “Do they use them only to leave the harbor?” he asked, reigning in his curiosity as to how they worked.

“Nay, lord,” she said. “There’s some o’ the lizard folk what make their livin’ waitin’ on the fish haulers, and for some coin or fish they’ll swim some o’ the cabling up to ye. We Molans don’t need the things to get our boats in an’ out, but the merchants like it well enough.

“The ships o’ the rebellion, some of ‘em anyhow, were big enough to need more than one pulley to haul ‘em in, and had to be tied up broadside to the docks. My pa saw them land, an’ he told that tale often,” she said.

Lian knew the ships of the rebellion well, for drawings of them had filled a part of his bedroom wall. They had indeed been big, but the docks of Mola were easily large enough to accommodate them. He wondered about the oversized docks, and of the sort of ships for which the structure
had
been designed. “I can’t imagine ships that big, barkeep,” he said with a touch of incredulity. “An amazing tale, if it’s true.”

She seemed mildly miffed that he didn’t accept her story at face value, but he didn’t expect her to think that he’d be that gullible.

From the little Lian did know about navigation, he thought it likely that the
Golden Gull
was taking the risk of grounding in the sandy shallows outside of Mola’s main bay. Ebb-tide was the mildest tide, caused by the moon Aliera without Lushran’s influence. It didn’t last nearly as long as mid-tide, the tide brought on by Lushran without Aliera’s influence, nor did it provide as much water depth. Navigators aboard the ships of Tieran had to be extremely skilled, for a miscalculation could be costly, or even devastating. The full-tide, a result of Lushran and Aliera in tandem, could be monstrous in its strength, and was the reason that the shacks of Mola were well above the apparent high tide mark. In some areas, full-tide could rise or fall fifty feet, and in such places could wash an entire island under the waves.  That much tidal rise and fall didn’t appear to be the case here.

The crew of the
Searcher
finished their evening chores and began trickling into the tavern. None approached Lian and Snog, but each kept a wary eye on the two strangers, assessing them as possible threats.
Considering the fact that I’m carrying the skull of an age-old necromancer and that I have a huge price on my head, I guess I am a threat
, he thought. He felt a twinge of guilt about his hope to sign on board the ship, since he could potentially bring Rishak’s retribution upon any comrades.

The officers of the warship sat scattered among the crew, and seemed to be on good terms with them. The captain, a burly man with a pronounced limp, was seated at the largest table with a few warriors from the mercenary band.

The arrival of the men from the warship must have been a signal to the town, for half a dozen serving girls, aged from about nine to twelve, entered the tavern. They carried the ale-laden trays that Shana prepared to the tables, carefully serving the warship captain’s table first. One of her young helpers carried a plate filled with a few pieces of fish to Lian’s table, laying it on the prince’s side. She didn’t look at the goblin at all, and had a faintly disgusted expression.

“Thankee,” said the goblin with a wide smile that showed off his pointed teeth. The girl ignored his thanks and went back to the kitchens. Lian wordlessly slid the plate over to Snog, who dug in with gusto.

Arden entered the Lonely Gull smiling, and nodded politely to the captain. Much to Lian’s surprise, Arden didn’t join him, choosing to take possession of the Lonely Gull’s other large table instead.
It seems that the captain doesn’t get along with the owner
, Lian thought to himself. Arden spared Lian and Snog a polite nod and an enigmatic smile.

Arden was a handsome man, with the dark features common to many of the western kingdoms. He wore a rapier at his waist, its pommel well worn.
A magical weapon, with several other permanent magics woven on or about him
, Gem reported.
I believe that his tunic is enchanted to be armor
.

The mercenary captain was accompanied by a man who fulfilled Shana’s description of Reidar, down to the shark-tooth earring. Reidar was a tall, thin man who bore a falchion at his side. The wide-bladed, curved sword seemed at odds with his narrow frame; however, it did serve to accent the threat that the weapon represented. His dark eyes gleamed, and his ever-assessing gaze darted about constantly, never stopping to rest on a single point. He glanced at the two travelers repeatedly, then, at least to Gem’s perceptions, stiffened slightly and deliberately turned his attention elsewhere.

Arden’s remaining four tablemates consisted of the two goblins, a woman who bore the tattooed markings of one of the northern barbarian tribes, and a short, powerfully built man who carried no weapons whatsoever. The man moved with grace reminiscent of a panther, and his fluid motions reminded the young prince of Elowyn. The master assassin had been trained in the elven art of
aythra
, in which the body was used as a weapon. Elowyn had introduced Lian to this technique, and even though he was only a beginner by elven standards, it had saved him from the Trakalan assassin’s knife.

Thoughts of Elowyn threatened to bring tears to his eyes, but he forced the emotion down.

The other three were heavily armed, and in the case of the goblins, armored as well.

Lian waited for them to get situated and for the serving girls to bring them a second round before rising. He motioned Snog to stay behind and strode up to Arden’s table.

“Good evening,” he said affably. “I am Alan, of Staikal.” He held out his hand steadily and looked directly into Arden’s brown eyes.

Arden took his measure with an experienced eye before reaching out to clasp hands with the stranger. “Greetings, Alan of Staikal. What business brings you before me?” he asked. His voice was rough, but his manner was pleasant.

“The scout and I are the last survivors of my band, sir,” he replied, a half-truth. “We are seeking an opportunity, and you and your ship appear to be a good one.”

Arden arched an eyebrow and one of the goblins loudly said, “What clan?” in heavily accented Dunshorian.

“He is formerly with
Sh’rek k’lass’rik
,” Lian said truthfully. “And now he works for me.” The goblin seemed annoyed that Lian answered for Snog.

Arden demonstrated an understanding of the goblin tongue by raising his eyebrows. “A Silent Fangs scout, preferring a human lord over some clan chief? How that came to be is a tale I’d like to hear, young man. The Fangs are a great clan, indeed.”

“The matter lies between Snog and me, sir,” Lian replied calmly. “Indeed, he has sworn not to speak of it at all.”

The goblins looked speculative at this, but Arden dismissed it with a wave, “Private matters aren’t any concern of mine, Alan of Staikal. A
Sh’rek
scout is worth his pay, but what are your qualifications?”

Lian hid his elation, for the mercenary leader would not have asked about his abilities if he weren’t looking for men to replace his losses. “I admit, I have little experience with seacraft, sir, but I am an excellent swordsman, archer, and engineer,” he replied. Engineers, particularly skilled ones, were in short supply everywhere, and his training was of the highest quality.

“An engineer, are you?” asked Reidar suspiciously. “So you could calculate ranges for siege engines?”

Lian nodded. “I could. Do you prefer Stel’s equations or the Gelian system?” He named the two most commonly used systems of calculating ranges, both based on trigonometric principles that Lian understood well.

Reidar appeared surprised that the man before him had even heard of the two systems of siege calculations, and furthermore seemed comfortable answering questions about them. He launched into a complicated example, including a steady wind and a ranging shot that had fallen well short of the mark. He described the catapult, and the settings on the weapon’s inclination.

Lian took a moment to consider the problem, which had been sketched on the table with a charcoal stick, and then said, “The catapult needs to be advanced fifty yards before it will be able to reach those walls, even at maximum range. And if what you told me about its ranging is correct, it’s a very shoddily made weapon.”