The Map of All Things (21 page)

48
The Dyscovera

Surveying the dark night sky above the unexplored ocean, Prester Hannes saw God's handiwork in the stars. Aldo na-Curic might be able to navigate by the positions of those bright lights, but the Saedran chartsman did not recognize the majestic purpose there. Ondun had placed the stars into constellations, forming patterns that only He could fully comprehend.

Hannes didn't know the secret message there, but he could still view it with awe. He was a devout and holy man, but not so arrogant as to expect divine instruction whenever he asked for it. Nevertheless, he knew the Book of Aiden, and he knew the correct and moral path.

It was his greatest joy—his
duty
—to see to it that others heard and followed that path as well. He led Javian out onto the deck, alone in the peaceful, open night. The young man, nearly fifteen years old, served Captain Vora well, and the boy occasionally listened to the prester's dawn sermons, but not with sufficient resolve or fervor. Hannes hoped to change that.

“I want to show you the constellations, tell you the story that Ondun Himself painted in the stars. Do you see that pattern there, the Anchor?” He pointed, tracing a majestic arc overhead.

Javian briefly gazed upward. “Every sailor knows the Anchor. The three stars in the crossbar point from north to south.”

Hannes frowned. “That may be true, but the reason the pattern is
there
is to remind us of the story of how a great whale once grasped the anchor of Aiden's ship like a gigantic fishhook and dragged the holy vessel far off course. At the time, Aiden thought they were being attacked, but in truth the whale guided the Arkship safely around an area of treacherous reefs.

Javian shrugged. “I've heard that story since I was a boy.”

“Hearing a story and
knowing
it are two different things.” Hannes reached into the pocket of his dark robe and withdrew a leather thong from which a symbolic copper fishhook dangled. “I want you to have this.” Though Javian showed no particular enthusiasm for the blessing, the prester slipped the thong over the young man's head. “This is to remind you of how Aiden's voyage and landing created our civilization in Tierra, and how his grandson Sapier formed the bedrock of the religion that is the Truth for all men.”

Dubiously, Javian touched the symbol at his neck. “I've been to the kirk, and I've listened to your sermons. What more do you want from me?”

Hannes smiled at the young man in the starlight. “I just want you to think about it. Captain Vora insists that you continue your studies—is that not true?” Javian gave a wary nod, as if afraid of being caught in a verbal trap. “Then should you not include the study of Aiden? The captain is a devout man—I know this, because Ondun appointed him to save me in the mountains during my own tribulations.”

Most of the crew was asleep at this late hour, except for the skeleton watch, though Hannes had seen neither of the two men on patrol. Dim lantern light burned from the captain's cabin, and low laughter came from belowdecks where a few crewmen played games.

Pointing to another constellation, Hannes walked with Javian toward the stern, near the wire coop that held the Saedran's
rea
pigeons. In the stillness, they heard some faint sounds—a thud on the deckboards, the scuffle of feet, a whispered voice hissing a warning… then more sounds of struggle.

Hannes strode boldly toward the noise, and Javian sprang ahead. In the dim shadows near the pigeon coop, they saw two figures on the deck: a large man and a smaller, slender form that thrashed and kicked.

“You, man, what are you doing there?” Hannes shouted.

Startled, the larger sailor bolted upright and whirled with a glare. Hannes recognized the burly man as Enoch Dey, a rough crewman who never failed to attend the sunrise services, always nodding and growling when Hannes described Urecari crimes. Next came a low groan, followed by a muffled burst of incomprehensible words.

“It's Mia!” Javian cried.

Hannes spotted the girl on the deck, a rag stuffed into her mouth. Her wide eyes glinted in the starlight as she thrashed to free herself. A dark splotch of blood stood out on her forehead from where she had been struck. Then Hannes realized that the girl sailor's trousers were missing; at the apex of the struggling girl's bare legs, he saw a thatch of dark hair. Enoch's trousers were pooled about his ankles. When he turned toward the interruption, his erection protruded like an embarrassingly small yardarm.

With a yelp, Javian launched himself at the big sailor. “Stop!”

When Hannes realized what was happening here, rage erupted within him like a blast from an active volcano. He shouted in the stentorious voice with which he harangued crowds in the kirk, “Captain Vora! Sailors—to arms! We have caught a vile criminal!”

The boy leaped on Enoch's back, riding him like an Eriettan bull. The big sailor thrashed and knocked Javian to the deck, but the trousers around the man's ankles tripped him up. He fell backward.

In no time, Mia had managed to get to her feet, grab her own trousers, and yank them on. When she saw the large crewman fall on his back, she took a light step toward him, drew her foot back and kicked him hard in the crotch, putting everything she had behind it—physical, mental, and emotional. Enoch let out an alarming high-pitched shriek.

As the
Dyscovera
's crew raced up from the hatches below, Captain Vora threw open his cabin door and strode out, holding a lantern. “What's going on out here?”

Hannes stabbed an accusatory finger at Enoch Dey, who lay curled on the deck, half-naked. “This man is a rapist, Captain! We barely caught him in time to save the girl's virtue. There is no question as to his guilt. He has broken the laws of God.”

Collecting her dignity, Mia finished pulling her clothing back into place and spat the rag from her mouth. “Thank you, Prester. Thank you both.” Her voice was husky. She wiped at the blood on her forehead with her gag, before tossing it dismissively over Enoch's genitals.

Javian went to her. “Are you all right?”

“Better than he's going to be.” She glared at her attacker.

Hannes felt disgust and loathing as he noticed that Enoch Dey also wore a fishhook pendant, much like the one he'd just presented to Javian. The prester reached down, grasped the thong, and yanked it away. “This no longer belongs to you. I can only hope Aiden forgives me for offering it to such an unworthy follower.”

The next day at noon, Hannes was still in the captain's cabin, with the door tightly closed and the windows shuttered. They attempted to keep their voices low, sure that the curious sailors would try to eavesdrop. This grim matter concerned them all.

Since being revealed as a female, Mia had stopped sleeping belowdecks with the rest of the crew; instead, she spent nights wrapped in a blanket on the open deck near the pigeon cage. Enoch Dey and the other man assigned to the night watch, Silam Henner, had planned to knock Mia senseless while she slept, then gag her and rape her, each in turn while the other man patrolled the deck. Both Enoch and Silam were now in irons down in one of the brig cells.

“They didn't think their plan through very well.” Criston shook his heavy head. “How could they believe they wouldn't get caught? Did they honestly think Mia would be too intimidated to report them?”

“Stupidity is no excuse for criminal behavior, Captain. The law is clear. Aboard ship or on land, rape is a capital crime. Aiden brought his wife and many other women as passengers aboard his Arkship. They had to be protected, just as we must now protect that girl.”

“I thought you didn't even like her, Hannes.”

“I was offended by her deception, but the law does not apply only to those whom I like. Ondun placed us here to improve the world. Crimes like this only delay His return.”

Criston remained pensive. “Given what happened last night, I see why she felt the need to hide who she was. Just as you did when you lived among the Urecari.”

Hannes still did not like the comparison. “I was doing Ondun's work.”

“And how do you know Mia isn't?”

“Because she isn't.”

Criston frowned. “You sound very certain, my friend.”

“I have never had a problem with certainty.” He sniffed. “That isn't the issue before us. Those two men are guilty. You must punish them—severely.”

Criston stroked his fingers through his beard, the decision whirling in his mind. “Captain Shay never faced a problem like this.”

“Your Captain Shay had no women aboard his ship.” Hannes clenched his hand into a fist and rested it on the tabletop. “I am your spiritual adviser, Captain. I believe wholeheartedly in the love of Aiden, but I also believe in the inflexibility of his law. Our civilization hinges on it. Your role as captain aboard this ship hinges on it. We cannot tolerate rapists, thieves, arsonists, or murderers, else the ship of our society will crash upon the rocks and sink with all hands lost.” Hannes leaned closer, dark eyes blazing now. “You must act decisively
now
, if you wish to put an end to this problem.”

“This is a long voyage,” Criston said, his voice raspy. “I expected to lose crewmen through storms or hazards at sea, but not because of this.”

“And yet they are lost to you. You must do what is necessary, for all our sakes.” Hannes sat back, utterly calm. “If it helps, do not think of them as crewmen. After what they did, they are merely garbage in the eyes of Ondun.”

49
Calay

Although the criers in Calay described the queen's meeting with her fiancé Jenirod as a spectacular event, with a marvelous horse show and feast, Mateo immediately sensed that he was not hearing the whole story. Anjine had cut her trip to Erietta short, and her attendants made excuses. Mateo was concerned for her.

When she summoned him for a private meeting in the castle, ostensibly to discuss military matters, he was very eager to see her. With a formal bow, Mateo presented himself at the door to the queen's private sunlit office. Anjine rose quickly to her feet, and her face lit up. “It's so good to see you! I wish you had come along with me to Erietta.”

Most people wouldn't have noticed it, but he heard the tinge of sadness in her voice. “I didn't think you'd want me there, or I would have volunteered.”

“Of course I wanted you, Mateo!” She suddenly looked like a shy little girl. “Or can I still call you Tycho?”

He reacted with a comical wince. “We're well beyond childhood nicknames, Anjine. I can't very well call you
Queen Tolli
, now can I? What would the other nobles think? From now on, Tycho is just the cat I gave you.”

The feline Tycho sprawled atop documents on the table, centered in a skewed rectangle of sunlight that poured in through the window. The cat was oblivious to politics or conversation, though he did expect to be petted.

“So… you met Jenirod? The betrothal ceremony went well?” Mateo forced a light tone into his voice, though he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. “Do you approve of him as your future husband?”

“My father made his choice quite clear. As I said, I wish you'd been there.” Anjine brushed the matter aside, clearly not wanting to talk about it, and Mateo could not ask why. Her demeanor changed, and she got down to business. “Now then, I read your report on rooting out the
ra'virs
among our soldiers. Excellent work. Bring me up to date.”

Mateo took a seat, pulling together his formal manner as a military officer instead of a friend. “With Tira's help, we discovered and arrested six more
ra'virs
, but I believe word has spread about the ruse. They may suspect that some former
ra'vir
is helping us. Now it's even more difficult to find them.”

Anjine paced the room, edgy and angry. “Damn them all! They are vipers in our beds. No, they're worse—who can hate a snake? It is what it is. But I
hate
these Urecari, Mateo. I
hate
everything they stand for. I wish Ondun would just strike them all dead with a bolt of lightning.” She slumped into a chair and put her head in her hands, obviously disturbed by more than she was saying.

He wanted to put his arms around her to comfort her, but knew that would not be appropriate. She managed to mount an unconvincing smile on her face. “Enough of that. It's been such a long time since I've seen you, Mateo. Cheer me up—you've always known how to do that. Tell me good news. Surely something exciting has happened in your life while I've been gone?”

Mateo wondered if she had already heard his news. He felt a sudden twinge of guilt, but he wanted to be the one to tell her. “Did… uh, you ever meet Vicka Sonnen, the daughter of Ammur Sonnen?”

“The blacksmith?”

“Yes. I've come to know Vicka rather well. She's intelligent, beautiful—” He began to blush, and Anjine laughed.

“Why, you're sweet on her!”

“I… asked her to marry me, and she accepted.”

Anjine's grin froze suddenly, and her surprised silence lasted a second longer than it should have. “Why, Mateo, congratulations! I'm so happy for you.” She hurried to give him a chaste, sisterly embrace that he found very awkward. “You must bring her to the castle. We'll have a banquet so I can get to know her better.” Anjine became a flurry of motion. “This isn't something we can take lightly. I insist that you be married in the main kirk. Prester-Marshall Rudio himself will officiate.”

Mateo was deeply embarrassed. “That's too much, Anjine… my Queen. Just a simple ceremony is—”

She cut him off. “Simple is not good enough for my friend Mateo. This wedding is what I can give you, and I insist.”

Mateo felt a pang as he watched her working particularly hard to make him happy, because it was all too clear that
she
was not happy.

The royal cog prepared to sail with an enthusiastic Prince Tomas. For days now, the boy had done nothing but talk about his goodwill voyage. Regardless of what had happened in Erietta, the queen insisted on going forward with her plans for marriage, and Tomas would appear at all the seaside villages.

Banners flew from the ship, showing off the colors of all five reaches; a larger flag displayed the Aidenist fishhook. Already on deck, Obertas and his ten royal guardsmen wore their best uniforms and brightest polished armor. The guard-marshall's hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, slicked with pomade, and tied with a thin green ribbon.

Mateo, whom Anjine had selected as her formal escort for the event, now walked stiffly with her and the prince down the dock, up the boarding plank, and onto the deck of the royal cog. Tomas's blond hair caught the wind. Despite the early summer warmth, he wore a heavy red velvet cape lined with spotted Iborian ermine, a gift from Destrar Broeck.

Once they stood on the deck together, Anjine faced the gathered crowd and held her young brother by the shoulders. Standing at attention beside her, Mateo recalled how the two of them had sailed with King Korastine down to Ishalem for the signing of the Edict, when they were just a bit older than Tomas. His throat went dry as he thought of how many tragedies had flowed from that well-meaning visit….

Anjine, for the moment, seemed unhaunted by memories. She smiled down at her little brother, spoke gently to him. “You represent Tierra on this voyage, Tomas. On my behalf, spread our goodwill from village to village. Let the people know that their queen remembers them.”

Tomas did a masterful job of controlling his excitement over the pending voyage. He nodded with comical solemnity. “I won't forget. I'm the prince. I'll make all of Tierra proud of me.”

“All of Tierra already is proud of you—and so am I.”

After presenting his guards, Obertas removed his hat and bowed to the queen. “He shall be safe with us, Majesty. I'll coach him on his speeches during the voyage south. Tomas is a fine prince.”

Before they could walk down the ramp, Mateo asked her quietly, “Would you like me to go along as well, Anjine? To help protect him? In times like these, one can't be too cautious.”

Tears sparkled in her eyes. “No, Mateo. It would shame Marshall Obertas if he thought I was belittling his abilities.” She took her friend's arm in his capacity as her formal escort, and they left the ship with heads held high. The crowds cheered, and Mateo wondered why Jenirod himself hadn't come to Calay for the celebration.

Turning to watch as the cog's square sails were set and the ropes thrown off, Anjine added, “Besides, you can't always think of your duties, Mateo.” She forced a smile. “You have your own wedding preparations to attend to.”

After Prince Tomas had sailed away, Guard-Marshall Vorannen called upon Mateo with grim news. “I think she was a friend of yours, Subcomdar. We left her where she was, just in case…” He shrugged. “Well, I don't know why.”

Mateo felt ice in his stomach. “Who are you talking about?” Several possibilities came to mind, the first and most urgent of which was Vicka Sonnen.

“The redheaded one, the skinny girl who always came to pester you in the barracks.”

At first Mateo couldn't move, and then he was away from his desk and moving with a brisk stride. “Show me. What happened?”

Down in the smelly, green water of the Butchers' District, the gangly body floated up against one of the sluice docks where the slaughter yards dumped offal. Workers came to the harbor to empty their waste every evening, so Tira could not have been in the water longer than overnight, but the fish had already begun nibbling on her pale skin. Her mouth was open, as were her sightless eyes. Her red hair was matted with algae. Her throat had been slit in a grotesque grin, side to side.

As Mateo stared, Vorannen said, “Is there someone we should inform, sir? We don't know where she lives, or who her family is.”

“She had no family. No last name.”

“But how did you know her, sir?”

“She… helped the Tierran army.”

Vorannen accepted this with a nod. “It was likely a cutpurse… she wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Mateo shook his head. “No, this was no robbery, but I doubt we'll find who killed her.” He looked away from Tira's sad corpse. “Take the body and have her cleaned up. I want a nice funeral service with a prester. She should be buried in an Aidenist graveyard with a fine fishhook to mark her place. I'll pay for it all.” He looked down again and closed his eyes. “She's earned it.”