Fire of the Soul (16 page)

“And then he married my widowed stepmother,”
Garit finished.

“On the surface, he hasn’t done anything that
two dozen or so other ambitious young nobles at King Dyfrig’s court
haven’t also done,” Durand continued. “Dyfrig is eager to establish
his friends in his kingdom so they will have good reason to support
him. The quickest, easiest way to do that is to marry those friends
off to Kantian heiresses. Or else to marry the daughters of his
friends to Kantian noblemen.”

“Dear Heavenly Blue Sky.” Garit swore softly
as he considered the situation. “It would seem that my grandmother
was right to be concerned about my half-brothers.”

“We don’t know for certain that Mallory has
any evil intentions toward his stepsons,” Durand said. “He may be
content to accept whatever honors King Dyfrig bestows on him and
leave high ambition to others. But, knowing of your past conflict
with Walderon, and since you are bound for Kinath, I thought you
should be aware who the new guardian of the castle is.”

“Thank you,” Garit said, and honestly meant
the words.

“I also think you should know that other
schemes are presently in play. King Henryk wants to keep King
Dyfrig friendly toward Sapaudia, so he won’t have to look over his
shoulder at the Kantians while he’s dealing with the Dominion,
which may become a dangerous problem if Domini Gundiac dies. In his
note, King Henryk orders us to maintain the Sapaudian friendship
with Kantia as part of our assignment, in addition to determining
whether the Emerald has been taken there. Garit, I must repeat, you
cannot tell anyone what I’ve just said to you about Sir Mallory.
Not Lady Elgida, not Calia, and not your squire or your
men-at-arms.”

“I know what’s at stake in the conflict with
the Dominion, so I agree entirely,” Garit responded. “With the
exception of Anders.”

“I said, no one is to know,” Duran repeated
with cold purpose in his voice. “You gave your word.”

“Anders is my half-brother, my father’s son.”
Garit’s tone was as chilly as Durand’s had been. “I trust him with
my life and my honor. If I need to be informed on this subject,
then so does he. I will tell him, and swear him to silence.”

“I have said as much as I have solely as a
favor to you.” Durand was obviously angry.

“I understood from King Henryk that you and I
were to be equal partners in this mission,” Garit said. “I expect
to be as fully informed as you are.”

“You will be. And I will hold you to your
promise of silence.”

“Then you will have to accept my word, too,”
Anders said, coming forward out of the dimness. “I didn’t intend to
eavesdrop, Garit. Blame my dark cloak and my ability to walk
softly. You never guessed I was standing nearby. Lord Durand, I
have not met Lady Fenella’s sons, but they are my blood kin, my
father’s sons as truly as I am, or Garit is. Therefore, I have a
duty to protect them, with my life if necessary, until they are old
enough to protect themselves. I do swear to you that I’ll reveal to
no living soul what you’ve said here.”

“My squire’s word,” Garit said, placing a
hand on Anders’s shoulder, “is as good as mine. You trusted me with
your secret information. Now trust my brother.”

“Do I have a choice?” Durand demanded
angrily. But after a moment he smiled. “On second thought, I can
see some benefit here. I can be confident that I’m sending two
honest men into Kinath to learn whatever they can about Mallory.
I’ll be greatly interested to hear what you discover. Once your
grandmother is convinced that those two little boys are safe, we
can investigate the situation at the royal court at Kerun and begin
our search for the Emerald.”

The next day
The Kantian Queen
sailed
through calm waters past a flat shoreline of low grasses, with many
small streams to drain the swampy land. The area was a haven for
seabirds that occasionally rose in great flocks of swirling white
or grey, to circle in the air before settling to earth again to
search for the insects and fish on which they fed. In the distance
beyond the grasslands a range of low hills was partially obscured
by lavender mist.

“Peaceful, isn’t? You’d never guess this land
shelters the most vicious pirates in the known world,” Captain
Pyrsig said to Garit, who was standing next to him on deck. “I
recognize this shore. It’s the coast of Mataram. I’ve been here
before several times, when the wind blew me off course.

“Just ahead is the town of Larak, where the
folk improve their lot by supplyin’ any ship that stops, whether a
friend or an enemy. Since we’ve still a long way to go, I propose
to put in there for fresh food and water. ‘Tis a small fishin’
village, so we’ll be able to buy fish and early season vegetables.
Afterward, we’ll be well supplied for the remainder of the voyage
and we won’t have to stop again, provided we have a fair wind to
speed us westward.

“The Matarami despise any form of government,
so they won’t try to hold us, or report us to the authorities,” the
captain continued. “Just as long as we don’t raid the village for
our supplies the folk at Larak won’t care where we come from, or
where we’re goin’.”

“I will rely on your judgment,” Garit said,
knowing full well that the shrewd captain would expect him to
produce whatever coins were required to pay for the food and water
they needed.

To call Larak small was an exaggeration. The
town, which lay at the mouth of a quiet river that was only
slightly wider than the other streams they’d passed, consisted of a
dozen houses clustered together. A single, deeply rutted road cut
through the town to end at riverside, where a stone wharf jutted
into the water, making a sheltered harbor. Apparently the anchorage
had been dredged, for the single boat that lay beside the wharf was
large enough to require deep water.

And that, Garit realized, meant
The
Kantian Queen
wouldn’t have to drop anchor away from shore and
ferry supplies to the ship in the two rowboats that were lashed to
the deck.

“The fishin’ craft are all out to sea,”
Captain Pyrsig said as they drew closer, “So we can tie up at any
spot we choose. The townspeople won’t want us to stay long. They’ll
need the space along the wharf for the fishermen when they return,
most likely at evenin’. In the meantime, I doubt if anyone will
object to our presence once we inform them that we’re willin’ to
pay for what we take away with us.”

At this point in the conversation Calia
joined them.

“Will we be able to go ashore?” she asked the
captain. “I have a feeling that Lady Elgida would enjoy a walk on
solid land and I do confess, so would I.”

“We should be here until midday, dependin’ on
the tide,” Captain Pyrsig answered. “I see no harm in ladies
walkin’ about with an escort. But Garit, keep yer men-at-arms
aboard. Lads who’ve been at sea for some days usually go lookin’
for female companionship as soon as they set one foot on land. We
don’t want any trouble, nor anyone wounded or killed whose sword
arm could be useful later, in Kantia.”

“Do you expect trouble in Kantia?” Calia
asked him, surprised by the remark.

“Ah, well, ye never know,” was all the
captain would say. He left them then, to join the helmsman in the
stern.

As
The Kantian Queen
was maneuvered
skillfully alongside the wharf, Calia searched the single street of
Larak for signs of activity, but all seemed quiet. Apparently, most
of the men of working age were at sea, fishing. A few little boys
and old men loitered on the wharf. They appeared curious about the
ship, but not suspicious of strangers. Several women clustered in
the road to watch the ship and waved when a sailor shouted a
greeting to those ashore.

Captain Pyrsig called down to one of the men
on the wharf, speaking a language that Calia could not understand.
At a word from the man, two of the boys set off into town at a
run.

“We’re welcome to tie up until midafternoon,
so long as we pay for the dockin’ space,” Captain Pyrsig reported
to Garit. “The man I spoke to has sent those lads to find carts to
carry our water barrels to the village cistern for refillin’.”

While the sailors made the ship fast,
uncurling the ropes from the deck and securing them to stone
pillars built into the wharf for that purpose, Calia continued her
examination of the village and its surroundings. Never having been
away from northern Sapaudia, she was fascinated by everything she
saw. The smell of the sea, and of fish, permeated the scene. Gulls
wheeled and cried overhead, possibly mistaking
The Kantian
Queen
for a fishing boat and expecting a meal of castoff fish
remains.

Looking ashore, she noticed that the road
headed straight out of town and directly toward the distant hills.
Seeing how deeply rutted it was, she knew the road had been built
to carry carts full of fish inland. The same road must have served
as a route to bring to the village the stones used to build the
houses, the seawall, and the wharf, for the local landscape seemed
to consist entirely of mud, grass, and sand.

“The buildings look sturdy enough,” she said
to Garit, who had moved to stand next to her after Captain Pyrsig
left them.

“They would have to be,” he said, “if they
are to withstand the fierce winter storms that must sweep in from
the sea.” He turned at the sound of quick footsteps that heralded
the arrival of Lady Elgida, with Mairne at her side.

“How soon may we venture ashore?” Lady Elgida
demanded of Garit.

“In just a moment or two,” he said, pointing.
“See, some of the sailors are setting up the gangplank now.”

“And others are removing the hatch cover,”
Calia added. “They aren’t planning to waste any time in loading our
new supplies.”

“Who can blame them?” Lady Elgida regarded
the village with a scowl. “What a desolate place. How cold and damp
it must be in winter. I do believe Larak must be almost as
unpleasant as Kantia.”

“The houses look snug enough to be
comfortable,” Calia said, thinking she’d like to live within sound
of the sea, in a quiet little cottage with a thatched roof like
those in Larak. In such an isolated place she’d never have to think
about Mallory, or worry about his latest schemes. And perhaps,
knowing she’d never see or hear of Garit again, she could forget
how she longed to be in his arms. At that thought she turned away
to look across the water, to the low-lying sand and grasses on the
opposite side of the river’s mouth.

“Grandmother,” Garit’s voice intruded on
Calia’s wistful fantasy, “will you take my arm and walk a short
distance with me? I’d like to speak with you in private.”

“Very well, but do not attempt to dissuade me
from stopping at Kinath.”

“Dearest Grandmother, I would never try to
prevent you from doing anything you please.” Garit’s honey-sweet
response elicited a snort of disbelief from Lady Elgida.

“Calia, Mairne, you may go ashore, but do not
walk far and behave yourselves. Remember whose companions you are,”
Lady Elgida instructed.

Garit handed her down the narrow gangplank
and onto the stone wharf. They began walking slowly toward the
town.

“I don’t see what mischief we could possibly
find in a place like this,” Mairne said, her sparkling eyes belying
her scornful words. “But if we try very hard, I’m sure we can think
of some way to shock Lady Elgida, so she’ll have the pleasure of
scolding us when we return.”

The usually serious Anders surprised Calia
with a loud guffaw.

“Well, you are right about one thing,” he
said to Mairne. “Larak is so small that it looks safe enough for
even the prettiest girl to walk about unescorted.”

“There must be a brewer’s house,” Durand
said, scanning the scene. “Every village has one. Calia, will you
allow me to help you down the gangplank?”

“Thank you, my lord.” She would far rather
have explored the town with Garit, but Calia knew how unwise that
would be. Just as every village boasted a brewer’s house, every
human habitation, however small, held quiet corners, sheltered
spots where a man and woman could find a degree of privacy. Judging
by his recent behavior toward her, privacy with Garit would be
perilous to both of them. Durand, who was charming and polite, yet
not the least bit unsettling to her heart, was sure to try to pry
information out of her, but that would be far less dangerous to her
composure than Garit’s embrace. Telling herself that except for her
true identity, which she would never reveal, she knew nothing that
could possibly be of use to any spy, Calia smiled and agreed to
walk with Durand.

Eager to explore the village, she set out
boldly, smiling at the few women and children she and her
companions met, speaking a friendly greeting to each and trying to
repeat what the villagers said in response. When Anders made
exaggerated gestures to indicate pouring and drinking a beverage,
Calia laughed along with the unknown women.

Throughout the walk and during their stop at
the local brewer’s house for refreshment she was intrigued to see
how closely Durand watched the townspeople. She noticed the looks
he exchanged with the proprietor of the business. Later, as they
left the brewer’s house, Anders and Mairne moved ahead with Mairne
clinging to the squire’s arm. Calia hung back, willing to allow
them to go on alone, since she could see the road all the way to
the ship, so even Lady Elgida could not accuse her of neglecting to
watch over Mairne.

Durand lingered to pay for the beer and bread
they’d consumed and when Calia turned back to him, she overheard
Durand’s quiet conversation with the proprietor.

“Has it come yet?” Durand asked, speaking in
Sapaudian.

“Not yet, and no message, either,” the
proprietor responded in Sapaudian. “‘Tis a long journey, and a
dangerous one, so we should be patient. We’ve a small ship waiting.
Once the object reaches Larak, there’ll be no delay.”