Scimitar War (17 page)

“I will dispatch a drake and a frigate to investigate, though I agree that they have probably fled. But your fortune, Mistress Flaxal Brelak, undoubtedly is lost with them.” Huffington detected a hint of smugness in the admiral’s tone, and wondered what about the seamage the man so detested.

The seamage’s face darkened. “I’ve still got ships, Admiral, and I’d give it all away thrice over for the lives of those who were killed here.”

“Well, of course,” the admiral huffed, straightening in his seat again and waving the steward forward to refill their cups.

“If you will excuse me.” Huffington’s attention snapped to Upton as the spymaster rose to his feet. “I must prepare my reports and get ready for the trip to Tsing. I will accompany the seamage and Captain Brelak on their journey to the emperor,” he said to the admiral, who mumbled ascent and turned his back on the little man. As Upton rounded the table, his sharp eyes fixed upon Huffington, and he made a discreet beckoning signal. Huffington sighed; there was no way to avoid this, though he would rather have a conversation with a hungry lion than the emperor’s master of security.

Huffington tapped Norris on the shoulder and whispered, “Upton wants a word, milord. I’ll be nearby.” Norris gave a nod, and Huffington turned away to follow the spymaster out of the great hall.

“Well, well.” Upton smiled, his lips a razor cut as their steps synchronized. “It would appear that your services to the emperor are superfluous, Mister Huffington. You must feel as if the world has been lifted from your shoulders.”

“Yes, sir. It is a relief, I admit.” Huffington could see that the spymaster anticipated more information, and was glad to disappoint him by remaining silent.

“Well, I daresay she seems cooperative enough,” Upton said with a sidelong look, “I intend to accompany the seamage back to Tsing aboard
Resolute
, Mister Huffington, but I believe that the count is remaining here, at least until the fate of Lady Camilla is determined, so this is farewell…for now.” He stopped and extended his hand. “I appreciated your help in the murder investigations. Though we recovered no concrete evidence, it appears that cannibals are the most likely culprits. Frankly, I don’t think the admiral will ever recover his two marines. I hope to see you again in Tsing sometime. If you ever are in need of gainful employ, you have but to ask.”

“Thank you, sir,” Huffington said, shaking the man’s hand firmly. He clenched his teeth to keep from barking out a laugh. He would be destitute and starving in the downwind quarter of Tsing long before he would ask the emperor’s spymaster for a job.

Chapter 11

Seeking Information

“Well, things could be worse, I suppose.” Feldrin leaned back against the wrought-iron bars of the
Resolute
’s brig and stared at Cynthia. “I mean, he’s kept his word so far; we’re together, sort of.”

“Sort of,” she agreed, staring back at him through the bars that separated them. Each square cell was large enough to accommodate a bunk, which in Feldrin’s case was decidedly too short, and a bucket to be used as a chamber pot. Cynthia lay the sleeping Kloe down on the thin straw pallet—it was clean and free of vermin, but hardly comfortable—pushing aside the wooden platter on which her meal had been served. Dinner had been a salt-pork stew that was more salt than pork, and ship’s biscuits, as hard as rocks and prone to weevils. “If this is good treatment, I’d hate to see how they treat less-honored guests. I’d hoped for a port, at least.”

There was no chance of that here; the brig was well below the waterline. She could hear the water sloshing in the bilges below them, and the smell wafted up with every roll of the ship, mingling with the odors of more than a thousand closely packed sailors. Mouse was moody, and had chittered in complaint until she shushed him so the baby could sleep. A dim lantern on a rusty peg was their only light. She joined Feldrin at the bars that separated them and they lowered their voices. The admiral had posted a guard on the other side of the door, but there was no use taking a chance of being overheard.

“We’d best get used to it, Cyn. I can’t imagine the emperor’s dungeons are much more accomodatin’.”

“You think he’ll put us in prison?” She’d feared it, but the reality of facing years confined in a cell loomed like a storm cloud on the horizon. She gripped her husband’s strong hands for reassurance.

“I don’t know if he’ll have much choice. I mean, think on it; we’re indirectly responsible fer the deaths of a hell of a lot of men. Their families are gonna be out fer blood. He’s got to give ‘em somethin’, even if it was really Eelback, Edan and Sam to blame. If he doesn’t, he’ll have riots in the streets.”

“I never thought of that,” she admitted. An image of the angry families of nearly two thousand sailors screaming for vengeance flashed into her mind. “We’ll be lucky if we aren’t publicly executed.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’ll go that far, lass. I mean, he’s bound to be—” Keys clattered in the lock, and the door to the brig groaned open. Cynthia looked up, and her spirits were buoyed by the welcome sight of Count Norris.

“Mistress Flaxal Brelak, Captain Brelak, I’ve come to bid you farewell,” Norris said, stiffly correct, his countenance dire. He turned toward the guard and said dismissively, “I’ll just be a moment. I’ll knock when I’m done.” The soldier saluted and closed the thick oak door. Before either of them could say a word, Norris made a shushing motion and approached the cells.

“What do you really know about Camilla?” Norris asked through clenched teeth. “What did Paska and Tipos tell you? She left me a letter—a
horrible
letter!—telling me she was possessed.”

“I…I’m sorry.” Cynthia shook her head, her heart aching at the desperation in the count’s eyes. “They said she walked into the jungle and didn’t return. Camilla told them Hydra had possessed her. She…released the prisoners held by the cannibals and stayed behind.”

“Dura said she tore some cannibal’s throat out,” Feldrin added, and Cynthia shot him a warning glare.

The count winced. “I can’t believe she would…”

“It’s not her, Emil! It’s the demon. It’s Hydra.” Cynthia cringed at the pain her words caused the count, but he had to know the truth.

“But they said that magic was involved. Camilla has no magic! How…”

“It’s the demon’s magic,” she explained. “I saw Hydra force the ocean to do her will. It was a vile, evil magic that offended the ocean, offended Odea, and made me ill, just like mine pained her.” She held up a forestalling hand when she saw hope bloom in Norris’ face. “There’s nothing I can do for her with my magic. She’s out of my reach.” Cynthia recalled her last encounter with the witch. “The only thing that hurt Bloodwind’s witch was to keeping her from feeding, but that would kill Camilla. The demon consumed the witch from within. I watched it happen. It nearly killed me.”

“But what was it that Whuafa said, Cyn? Didn’t the natives try somethin’ once that made her sick?”

“Yes, but—”

“Anything!” Norris insisted, gripping the bars, hysteria flushing his face. “
Anything
you know might help.”

“Whuafa, the village wise man on Vulture Isle, said something about tainted blood sickening Hydra, but it was just a legend; he didn’t know any details.” Cynthia frowned. “And it didn’t help. It only made her sick, and she slaughtered them in retribution.”

“Tainted blood…” Norris’ gaze drifted away from hers, then snapped back. He straightened, his mouth still set in a grim line. “Thank you, Mistress Flaxal Brelak. This may help.”

“Oh, and, Count Norris, you need to know one more thing.” Cynthia bit her lip. “It’s about Samantha.”

“Samantha? You’ve got news of her, too?”

“I’m afraid so, and it’s not good. She was the pirate who followed us to Akrotia. She murdered Ghelfan. I still don’t know what she was after, but she wanted Edan to come with her.”

“And…” the count swallowed and continued. “And did she survive?”

“I don’t know. I was unconscious, but Feldrin saw her struggling with Edan. I don’t know if Sam was trapped in there with him, or…or if she drowned.”

“Dear gods…” Emil Norris’ shoulders slumped, then squared again. “I can’t…I’ve got to think about saving Camilla. Samantha’s fate is in the past. I can’t help her anymore.” He drew a deep breath and let it out. “I’ll go to Vulture Isle and speak with this wise man. Perhaps we can figure something out. At least it gives me a starting point.”

“Good luck,” Feldrin said, though his tone lacked confidence.

“And to you,” Norris said with a polite nod. “I know you may think your situation is hopeless, but the emperor is a fair man. I have done all I can to help you; both the admiral and Master Upton carry my letters and recommendations for leniency. Do not try to force the emperor’s hand as you did with Joslan.”

“Thank you,” Cynthia said, meaning it. She extended her hand between the bars, and he took it.

“And thank you for telling me of Samantha,” he added, his mien heavy. “At least now I know her fate.” He squeezed her hand, then solemnly shook Feldrin’s.

“The
Resolute
is due to weigh anchor, so I must be off. Farewell.” He bowed from the waist, turned and knocked sharply on the door. The guard let him out, and they were alone again.

“Well,” Feldrin said quietly “what do you think his chances are?”

“Of saving Camilla, or surviving the attempt?” she asked. Cynthia returned to her bunk and sat next to Kloe, adjusted his wrap. The babe was sleeping soundly. Mouse was curled up next to him, one tiny hand on the child’s breast, his wings fluttering to provide some breeze in the stifling confines.

“Either.”

“Impossible and not good, respectively.” She leaned back and stroked Kloe’s gossamer hair. Mouse stirred, then settled down again. He did not like the confinement, and Cynthia found herself wishing that he’d stayed with Chula aboard
Orin’s Pride
. But she knew he would never leave her, and if she were imprisoned, it would kill the little sprite. “Not much better than ours.”

≈

Huffington leaned against
Resolute
’s rail, enjoying the breeze that blew across the azure waters. Tim wasn’t so peaceful. The boy tapped his foot and tossed another glare at Commodore Henkle, who was pacing the quarterdeck, impatient to have his armada under way. The man had grudgingly allowed the count below to speak to the prisoners, but had insisted that Tim and Huffington remain on deck. Nearby, the two frigates and the drake assigned to escort
Resolute
were already hoisting sails and tacking to remain on station while they waited for the larger warship.

“Relax, Tim,” Huffington advised. “Fidgeting won’t speed things up.”

Tim snapped him a look then sighed. “I know, but—” They both stiffened at the sight of Count Norris’ familiar blue coat emerging from the stern castle, his face a mask of anxiety. “Any ideas, Father?”

“Perhaps, but we’ll have to get to Vulture Isle, and quickly, before Joslan sends a warship.” Norris nodded toward the waiting launch. “Come on; I’ve got to speak to the admiral.”

“Again?” Tim’s tone almost made Huffington smile. They shared a common opinion of the admiral.

“I’m afraid so. He may not like it, but we’re going to take
Flothrindel
. I’ve just got to convince him that it’s in his own best interest to let us.”

“And how do you plan to do that, milord?” Huffington asked. He wondered if it might be easier to just steal the little boat than to try to convince the admiral of anything.

“With the seamage on her way to Tsing, the admiral’s orders are to secure the Shattered Isles. As His Majesty’s ambassador, it’s only logical that I negotiate with the natives, don’t you think?”

“I do believe you’ve got something there, milord.” Huffington smiled in relief. His master was thinking clearly and taking action, just like his old self. “Just tell me what you need, and I’ll see to it.”

“
We’ll
see to it,” stressed Tim, flashing a furtive smile to the secretary. Huffington nodded and returned it.

“Very good then. Let’s get to work!”

There was a new sense of purpose in the count as he climbed down the boarding ladder into the launch. Tim and Huffington followed, and the sailors dipped their oars to row them ashore. Before Huffington lost sight of the ship,
Resolute
was underway. The ship was off to Tsing with the seamage, Huffington’s last duty to the emperor safe in her brig. Huffington took a deep breath. Despite the seriousness of Camilla’s situation, he found himself grinning; he was Count Norris’ man once again, and nothing had felt so good in weeks.

≈

Shelly placed her webbed hand against the hull of the huge ship. She could sense the magic of the seamage there, though it was quiescent. She flipped her tail and did a roll of excitement.

*We have found her, Farsee!* she signed to her cousin, indicating the looming bulk of the warship overhead. *The seamage is here!*

*We should go tell the trident holder,* he said as he looked around, twitching his fins in uneasiness. *We should not be so close to the warships.*

*But the seamage is aboard this ship,* Shelly protested. It was moving away from the others, three smaller ships in company, sailing north. *If she leaves, we will not know where she has gone to. Follow me!* she ordered, and swam rapidly away. Shelly thrummed a quick greeting to Shellbreaker and Forktail, another pair assigned by Broadtail to watch the seamage’s island.

*Greetings!* she signed hastily. *The seamage is being taken away aboard a warship. Farsee and I will follow. You must tell the trident holder that we go north.*

Shellbreaker’s colors shifted in confusion. *But we were told not to go near the warships! You should remain here.*

*I am telling you what we are doing, not asking your permission,* Shelly signed, her fins flaring in challenge. *We go now. If you do not inform my father, he will be angrier with you than with me.*

She turned and shot back toward the ship containing the seamage before they could argue again…and before she lost her nerve. Her father would not be pleased, but she had heard some of what Tailwalker had told their parents, of how the seamage was afraid that she might have to go to the city of the landwalker emperor. If the seamage was taken away and not allowed to return, they might never find her.

She reached the warship with the seamage, grasped the vessel’s immense rudder, and grinned at her cousin. *This ship is huge, Farsee. We can ride it for days and they will not even know we are here.* Shelly drew her dagger and pried a long goose-necked barnacle from the rudder braces. She popped the morsel into her mouth and swallowed. *And it even provides us with food for the trip.*

She was pleased to see him flutter his gills at her joke, then his colors shifted to darker, more serious tones. *How far do you think they will take the seamage?*

*I do not know,* she admitted. *Perhaps many tides at this speed.*

They settled in for the ride, gripping the rudder post with one hand and signing with the other.

*I never knew the ocean was so big,* Farsee signed. *Do you think any mer has gone so far north?*

*There are many schools, Farsee. My father says that there are mer even where it is so cold that the surface of the water grows hard as rock, and the great leviathan feeds on schools of krill so thick you can eat and swim at the same time!*

*Too cold for me,* he signed with a shiver of his tail. *Do you think they will take the seamage that far?*

*I hope not, Farsee, but I know one thing for certain!* She shifted dark, suddenly serious.

*What?*

*You worry too much!* She fluttered her gills at his pained expression and flipped her tail, swimming forward until she rode the bow wake of the huge ship. She surfed the underwater pressure wave with little effort, flipping her fins only occasionally to steer. Her brother Tailwalker wasn’t the only one who could have adventures!

≈

“Ah, Count Norris, do come in!” Joslan put his pen aside and flexed his aching hand.