The Grim Company (21 page)

He stopped short. He was speaking to thin air. The candles on the table had burned down to tiny stumps that flickered feebly, surrounded by pools of wax. The pale women had simply disappeared.

Eremul shivered. There had been no magic at work, or at least none that he could sense.

He spun his chair around and wheeled himself back outside, breathing in the crisp night air and listening to the sounds of water lapping against the cliff below. He tried to recall the faces of all the men and women whom he had betrayed to the magistrates. People like him, united in their hatred for the city’s despotic ruler and determined to bring about a future free from his tyrannical rule.

Sentenced to death. By me, the unassuming, maimed scribe hiding in plain sight among the fakeries of book and tome and scroll. A… spider, damn it, yes, the irony… a spider at the centre of a web of deceit
. Bitterness welled up inside him. He swallowed it down. One day Salazar and his cronies would learn that this spider had venom.

Shoulders slumped and bladder bursting, Eremul forced his aching arms into motion and pushed his chair back down Raven’s Bluff towards the harbour – and, for want of a better word, home.

The Great Escape

 

 

 

Cole took a deep breath and tried to steady his nerves. He squinted up at the purple sky where the glowing orb of the sun was just about visible behind a thick band of clouds. Dawn was upon them.

The
Redemption
had crossed into the Swell in the early hours of the morning. The captives had been allowed on deck shortly after first light. They had enjoyed a breakfast of thick gruel, dried nuts and salted beef, washed down by a generous cup of fresh water from the barrels stored in the small hold near the mizzenmast at the stern of the ship. With strict rationing, the provisions on board would last for months.

He had spoken with eight of the prisoners while on deck the night before. Seven had agreed to his plan. The last had said nothing, only looked at him with a hard expression before glancing off in the direction of the captain. Cole’s heart had felt as if it was lodged in his throat as he waited for the lank-haired fellow to run over to Kramer and tell him everything. Instead, the man had simply looked down and spat on the deck.

Still. Eleven men. With the exception of the engineer, Soeman, every one looked like he could handle himself in a fight. If everything went smoothly they would be sailing away to freedom before the morrow.

He looked around one last time, meeting the eyes of each participant in this daring plot. He saw the hint of worry on one face, excitement on another. Three-Finger positively smirked at him. Cole gave his co-conspirator a confident nod, a gesture he hoped conveyed an iron certainty that, for some reason, he wasn’t really feeling.

Red Bounty
’s small crew waited by her railing for the men on the smaller carrack to board. A small rowing boat had detached from the cog and now bobbed alongside the
Redemption
on her starboard side. Rope was thrown down and the first group of prisoners was lowered onto the vessel under the careful gaze of four Watchmen. It took only a couple of minutes for the boat to cross the small expanse of water. The passengers were hoisted up the side of the cog, and then the rowing boat swung around to collect more men.

Cole was ferried across in the third and final group. Soeman sat next to him, his thin face ashen and his hands twitching with nerves.

Not that the soldiers staring across at them had any cause for suspicion. Just about everyone aboard the two ships was feeling the strain of sailing on the Swell. Prisoners, sailors and Watchmen alike had reacted poorly to the news they had crossed into the dreaded stretch of water. The hold had been an unpleasant place to be at that moment, with prisoners retching all around him, others moaning in fear, and Three-Finger accidentally pissing on his leg as he shifted to avoid another man’s vomit.

He reached across and squeezed Soeman’s arm. A Watchman saw the gesture and sneered. Cole frowned in response and then turned and spat over the side of the boat, just as he imagined Brodar Kayne would have done.

He immediately regretted the gesture. It was because of that old bastard he was in this mess in the first place. To make matters worse, the Highlander still had his birthright, his precious dagger. He wanted Magebane back. If he had to take it from the old barbarian by force, so be it. That was
exactly
what he would do.

The boat bumped against the hull of the cog and Cole shipped his oars. The old seadog, Jack, clambered up the hanging rope like some wiry monkey. Soeman tried to haul himself up next but slipped and crashed back down into the boat, sending it lurching to one side and soaking everyone with cold seawater. A Watchman hauled him to his feet and shook him so hard Cole thought his teeth were going to fall out.

He wouldn’t have minded giving the man a shake himself, but he needed Soeman for his plan to work effectively. It came as a relief once the engineer was finally over the side of
Red Bounty
.

‘You next,’ ordered a Watchman. Cole glanced around and stretched theatrically to make sure everyone was focusing on him. Then he sped up the rope like an acrobat. He reached the top and vaulted onto the deck of the ship, landing in a smooth roll.

He immediately regretted his bravado. Agony exploded in his swollen groin. His bruised ribs hurt even worse. He wanted to fall to the deck and wait for the pain to subside, but everyone was watching him. Teeth clenched, he shrugged and strolled over to the rest of the captives.

‘What was that about?’ asked Three-Finger, a puzzled expression on his ugly face.

‘Morale,’ Cole replied. ‘The men can’t fail to have been impressed by what they just saw. A leader has to inspire confidence in his ability.’

‘Whatever you say.’ Three-Finger looked around the ship and counted under his breath. ‘There are six Watchmen aboard this vessel. That means there are six more back on the
Redemption
. And that cocksucking Augmentor.’

Cole nodded. The rowing boat was now back alongside the other ship, where the sailors were attending to the rigging. Captain Kramer stood near the rail, conversing with his first mate. Falcus lurked nearby.

A booming voice brought Cole’s attention back to
Red Bounty
. The speaker was a huge bear of a man with a bristling beard. His assistants cowered behind him on the aftcastle as he stared down at the indentured workforce with undisguised contempt.

‘I’m Foreman Armin,’ he bellowed. ‘I’m supervising this mining operation. If any one of you so much as puts a foot out of place, I’ll have the flesh stripped from your hide.’

Cole glanced at the soldiers behind him. They wore eager looks on their faces, no doubt keen to get stuck into the business of mistreating their prisoners. Whatever one might say about Kramer, the captain ran a tight ship. Armin, on the other hand, gave the distinct impression he would be the taskmaster from hell.

‘We have the whole day ahead of us,’ the foreman continued. ‘When I say the word, you cretins will begin unloading equipment from the cargo hold. I want everything tested to ensure it’s operational
before
work begins on the morrow. Any man not pulling his weight gets to feel the leather of my boot up his arse. Where’s Soeman?’

The engineer hesitated for a second, and then raised one thin arm.

‘You’ll oversee the construction of the platform,’ Armin said. ‘I want it assembled by the time we finish work this evening.’ He paused a moment, savouring his next words before he spoke them. ‘Tomorrow a handful of you bastards will test the water. My men will operate the drill. You lot’ – he smiled grimly, gesturing at the captives – ‘will search the sea floor.’

The uproar was instantaneous. Men cursed and shook their heads. Others looked for weapons as if they would mutiny right then and there. Crimson Watchmen waded in, laying about them with the pommels of their swords and lashing out with cruel whips. The man next to Cole was knocked down and stomped on. He turned his head and spewed bloody spittle and loose teeth all over the deck.

Within the space of a minute the protest was over. Captives groaned, wiping blood from their faces and nursing bruised bodies. Cole shook his head in annoyance. This wasn’t going to make their escape any easier.

‘Now that we understand each other,’ said Armin, ‘let me explain how we’re going to do things. You will search for blue veins in the rock. When you find one, follow the vein and extract as much of the rock containing blue material as you can. That stuff is solidified magic. These waters are rich with it, so you shouldn’t have much difficulty locating good hauls.’

‘How are we supposed to dive to the bottom?’ asked a
long-faced
fellow behind Cole.

‘The sea is shallow here. Less than thirty fathoms. You will be provided with special helmets to help you breathe.’

‘What kind of helmets?’

Armin frowned. ‘The kind you wear on your head. They’re a Shadowport invention, based on old Fade designs.’

‘I thought the Fade were just a myth.’

The foreman was starting to grow annoyed. ‘The Fade are no myth, you gormless fool. Almost everything we know of engineering and the sciences is taken from their ancient teachings. How do you think Shadowport’s navy defeated ours? They had access to knowledge we did not.’

‘But no one has crossed the Endless Ocean for centuries—’

‘
Enough!
’ Armin roared. His beard bristled with anger. ‘You’re here to do a job, not talk my bloody ears off. You criminal scum will keep your mouths shut and do as you’re told. I want the cargo hold emptied before midday. And if any piece of equipment so much as gets scratched,’ he added, ‘the idiot responsible loses a finger. Get to work.’

Cole glanced at the prisoner whose face had been ground beneath the boot of the Watchman. It was the fellow who had rejected his scheme the previous night. He had a hand in his mouth and was taking a painful account of his remaining teeth. He caught Cole staring at him and nodded once, a grim gesture whose meaning could not be lost.
One more
.

He hoped it would be enough.

Dusk arrived.

Cole’s body ached all over from hauling equipment around.
Red Bounty
’s cargo hold was enormous and it was a wonder she hadn’t sunk under the sheer weight she carried. One poor fool had accidentally dropped a section of the huge drill Soeman was assembling, opening a considerable hole in the deck. Just as Armin had promised, the worker had lost a finger.

Three-Finger might have sympathized with the man’s loss, but he didn’t seem the sort to offer much in the way of compassion. The convict sauntered up and flashed an evil grin. ‘Soeman thinks the Core can be sabotaged to start a fire,’ he said.

Cole had seen the Core earlier that day. The blue orb of permanent energy had been created by Salazar many years ago at an exorbitant cost of raw magical material. When connected to the platform that floated a hundred yards to port, the Core would cause the gigantic drill underneath the platform to rotate at unimaginable speeds, tearing up the sea bed faster than a hundred men with picks and axes. Of course, the machine still required that divers identify spots for drilling, as well as gather up the loosened material and place it in nets to be hauled to the surface.

‘How long before we move?’ asked Cole. Nightfall was almost upon them.

‘A half-bell,’ replied Three-Finger. ‘They’re going to take Soeman over to the platform now and have him test the drill.’

‘Perfect,’ replied Cole. If Soeman could cause the Core to malfunction and start a blaze on the platform, the soldiers over on both ships would need to cross over to investigate. In the ensuing confusion, the twelve conspirators would make for
Red Bounty
’s rowing boats and then the undefended carrack nearby. They would overpower the crew, and then cut and run.
Red Bounty
would never catch them.

A thought occurred to the young Shard. ‘What about Soeman?’ he asked. ‘He’ll be stuck on the platform.’

Three-Finger shrugged. ‘If the man has any sense, he’ll leap off and swim for the
Redemption
.’

‘Good enough for me,’ said Cole, though he still felt a certain amount of trepidation. What if the engineer’s obvious lack of backbone caused him to falter at the last moment? Not everyone possessed the iron resolve he had been blessed with. ‘And the weapons?’ he asked. This was an important part of the plan.

Three-Finger grinned again. The scabrous convict only ever seemed to smile when the topic involved inflicting misery on someone.

‘You see that barrel over there? The third one in? There’s more than water inside it. Six pickaxes, four hand axes, a hatchet and a crowbar, to be precise. All gear capable of smashing a man’s head in.’

Cole rubbed his hands together in satisfaction. Everything was going exactly as he predicted. If only Garrett had possessed the foresight to acknowledge the brilliance of his young charge, the Shards would probably have liberated Dorminia already.