The Water Road (29 page)

“For one thing, back in Beckton all
those years ago, nobody really knew how all this happened,” he said, holding
the pikti out so that the reflection of the flames dances across its surface.
“They thought it was some kind of magic or a gift from the gods. Regardless,
they weren’t about to share their good fortune. Of course, we know better now.
It’s not magic, just chemistry. Piktis made today are just as good and strong
as those made back when seeking the blessing of the gods was part of the
recipe. The other thing is that the tree will only grow in that one particular
marsh. It’s been planted elsewhere, but it doesn’t work. It just dies.”

He paused then, as if the story he
was telling meant more to him now than it had in the past. Strefer looked at
his face as he watched the light from the fire glide up and down the pikti.
This was a part of his own history, his own mythology, he was sharing with her.
A part of his life to which he would never be able to go back to, thanks to
her.

“Besides, these aren’t particularly
effective weapons unless you’ve been properly trained to use them,” Rurek said,
melancholy gone. “Sentinels spend weeks at the academy in Tolenor just learning
how to use one.” He jumped to his feet and started to wield the staff in some
sort of standard training routine. “Most people want to swing it like a club. I
bet that’s what you did, right?”

She nodded sheepishly.

“That doesn’t work, usually.
There’s not enough weight. You need to be able to move it and deliver blows
with speed and precision. Technique is more important than brute force.”

“All due respect,” she said, “I’ve
seen what unskilled brute force and a pikti can do to a person’s skull.” She
stood up and went to check on the roasting animal.

“All due respect to you, Strefer,”
he shot back, “you don’t know how that halfbreed wielded that weapon, do you?”

“Antrey,” Stefer said, aggravated
for an instant. “Her name is Antrey. There’s no need to be vulgar.”

Rurek shrugged it off. “Well, this
Antrey could very well have gotten lucky. Hit a spot on the skull that was
particularly fragile and went from there. Or maybe with Neldathi strength you
don’t have to worry about the technique so much.”

Strefer let the matter drop. It
wasn’t important, anyway. Besides, dinner was ready.

At the southern edge of the territory
roamed by the Dost was a narrow slip of sea called the Bay of Raybury. On the
other side of the bay was Port Levin, one of the Islander trade cities that
dotted the Neldathi coast. It was there at the bay that Antrey and her
entourage would try and find a ship. The land route into Port Levin would take
them through Chellein territory, and although that clan should be well south of
the area by this time of year, there was no way to be certain of its location.
Confrontation was to be avoided at all costs right now. They had to find an
alternate route. Getting there by land was out of the question.

Once Ushan had agreed to support
Antrey’s plan, she knew that the Islanders would play a key role in fulfilling
it. They were Altrerians, but they were not part of the Triumvirate.
Concentrated in the Slaisal Islands that lay off the northeast coast, well
north of the Neldathi territories, they never had anything to fear during the
Rising. The Neldathi, after all, were not sailors and had no real means to reach
the Slaisals, even if they had some reason for wanting to do so. Once the
Rising was put down, the Islanders took advantage of the Triumvirate embargo on
trade with the Neldathi to open up a series of ports and shipping routes that
linked the Neldathi coast with the islands.

As a result, the Islanders provided
things that made them essential to Antrey. First, their trade routes and port
cities made it much easier to travel great distances quickly. It would
certainly be easier than trying to hike from one clan to another. Second, the
Islanders were, like Antrey, outsiders to the Neldathi themselves. They had a
long tradition of not getting involved with the disputes between the clans.
They were only traders and sailors. That neutrality should bolster Antrey’s
credibility with the clans along the coast, at least.

Going the coastal route had been
Kajtan’s contribution to the plan. He convinced Antrey to bypass those clans
nearest the Dost and focus on the coastal clans first. Neither the Haglein nor
the Chellein would likely be interested in unification with the Dost that
involved setting aside old grudges and healing old wounds. Too much blood had
been spilled over the years for that to work, at least at first, and the other
two clans may regard the whole thing as a trick by the smaller clan to gain an
advantage over them. But once other clans were involved and those fears could
be alleviated, things might be different.

To Antrey’s pleasant surprise, the
solution to the problem of how to get to the Islander cities came from Hirrek,
of all people. All he had said since Antrey and her mission had been blessed by
Ushan suggested that he thought the entire enterprise was folly. Most of his
hunters and the warriors of the clan felt the same, she knew. But Hirrek was
nothing if not loyal to his mother, and would not undermine the decisions she
made. So while Antrey had no fear of sabotage from him, she was pleasantly
surprised when he proved eager to solve problems along the way, or to prove so
adept at doing so.

Her small party camped for several
days on the north shore of the bay, watching the ships come and go from the
port. It was easy enough to see the ships themselves, but Antrey wished she had
taken Alban’s telescope so she could see them in more detail. Hirrek’s plan was
to build a large signal fire on the beach in hopes of attracting the attention
of a passing Islander captain. They had no money to buy passage—Neldathi did
not use currency as the Altrerians understood it—but Ushan had sent a small
stash of pelts and fine woodcrafts that could be used in trade. The Islanders,
unlike their cousins in the Triumvirate, dealt with the Neldathi regularly and
would be willing to barter. If some enterprising and curious captain sailed
across the bay to them, he could gain a pleasant reward.

Goshen concluded that the best time
to light the fire was at dusk. Ships did not leave the harbor at night, they
had observed, although often one or two would head out just as the sun began to
set. The last arrivals for the day also appeared about the same time, although
none of them thought a ship coming into port would explore what was happening
on the other side of the bay.

The first night produced nothing,
aside from a blazing fire and the warmth and light it provided. On the second
night, however, Antrey watched as two ships slipped out of port together, just
after sunset. From her vantage point, they appeared to be sailing in formation,
but she thought that was most likely not the case. Indeed, after a few moments
of maneuvering, the ships diverged. One turned towards the open sea and slipped
slowly over the horizon. The other, however, stayed in sight, almost as if it
had stopped while trying to decide what to do next.

The ship sat there for what felt
like a very long time. Frustrated by the delay, Antrey walked over to a small
rock outcropping behind the fire and sat down. The heat from the flames washed
over her. Even though they were now well into the spring thaw, the evening air
was cool, the sea breeze briskly swirling around the bay. It still felt like
winter to Antrey. That would be the case for most northerners once they crossed
the Water Road, regardless of season. Warmth and summer were very relative
concepts. She closed her eyes, savoring the heat and the crackling sound of the
fire.

“I think they have seen us, jeyn,”
Goshen said, causing her to open her eyes.

She stood and walked over to the
edge of the water where he stood. “How can you tell?”

“See that light? There?” He pointed
off in the distance. “The one that appears to be hanging out over the water?”

Antrey could just barely follow his
gaze. “I see it.”

“That is called a bow signal,” he
explained. “It is a light hung off the front of the ship to mark its most
forward point. I have focused on it for the past half hour, at least, for signs
of movement. I do not believe it is heading out to sea. I believe it is turning
this way.”

His explanation made sense, but
Antrey wanted to confirm it for herself. She watched the glowing ball of light
intently, blocking out all the distractions around her. He was right. It was
growing larger, ever so slowly, as if it was coming towards them. She turned
and yelled, in brusque and halting Dost, for Hirrek to put more wood on the
fire. He obeyed, making Antrey’s study of the local language seem, if not easy,
at least worthwhile.

It was an hour before the ship came
close enough to actually discern its outline, lit up with lanterns against the
nearly black sky. There was a sound out in the water, like a large splash,
followed by the sounds of many voices shouting and clamoring over each other.
Sounds of confusion subsided and were quickly replaced by the rhythmic pulse of
oars dipping in and out of the water as a small launch made its way to the shore.

Hirrek sprang into action, giving
orders to the rest of the party to prepare for the Islanders. Two warriors,
marksmen armed with precision-crafted rifles, ran and took positions up the
beach, behind a thick stand of brush. Two others ran in the opposite direction,
the chest of trade goods carried between them. Antrey had initially worried
about Hirrek’s overly cautious and suspicious nature, but she concluded that
letting him handle these matters was the best policy. With his men deployed, he
walked down to the shore and stood next to her, bow in hand.

For the first time in a long time,
since she had first been taken by Hirrek and his men, Antrey was afraid. Now on
the beach she stood without a weapon and only a few men to help keep her out of
trouble. If the Islanders came all the way, she would be at their mercy. She
took a long, deep breath.

The boat glided into view and
lurched to a halt as it met the rising shore. In the dim light, Antrey saw
thirteen men in the boat—ten sitting in ranks of two manning the oars, two in
the back with guns in their hands, and one other who stood at the bow as the
craft came to rest. The one at the bow made a quick hand motion to the others,
who jumped out into the slowly lapping waves of the bay. By his dress, it was obvious
that he was the one in charge. To Antrey’s eyes, at least, he was also unarmed.
He stepped out into the water, made his way onto the beach, and walked slowly
towards Antrey, Hirrek, and Goshen.

Hirrek stepped in front of her to
block the man’s path. “Identify yourself,” he said, in gruff and brutalized
Altrerian. Antrey was not the only one learning a new language.

“Excuse me?” the Islander asked.
“My men rowed all the way across the bay because of your fire there,” he said,
pointing towards the blaze, “and you have the nerve to address me in such
fashion? Forget who I am. You’re trouble I don’t need.” He turned and walked
back towards the boat, shouting orders.

“Wait!” Antrey called out. She
worked her way around Hirrek, calming him with a touch on the forearm, and
walked down to the water. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the best way to greet you.”

The Islander turned and looked at
her, obviously for the first time. “No it wasn’t, halfbreed,” he said before
she cut him off.

“Now now,” she said, wagging a finger
in his direction. “Don’t come and lecture me and my companions about manners if
you’re going to use that kind of language. My name is Antrey Ranbren.”

The Islander took the rebuke
without complaint. “What clan are you with?”

“I am not of any clan,” she said.
“Most of my party is from Clan Dost. But I’m sure you knew that already, given
the location.”

He nodded his head to one side. “It
was an assumption I had made. But I couldn’t make out the colors in the
firelight.”

“Now that you know who we are, why don’t
you answer Hirrek’s question?” Antrey asked. “Who are you?”

“I am Naath, first officer of the
Gentle
Giant
,” said the Islander. He turned and gestured to the ship floating
gently in the bay. “We saw your signal and assumed you had some emergency, although
that doesn’t appear to be the case.”

“Not an emergency, no,” Antrey
said, a bit sheepishly. She hadn’t thought how the fire might look to others.
“But we are in need of assistance. We are in need of passage. In need of a
ship.”

Naath stood there without moving as
the cold waves continued to lap around his ankles. “Passage? For what, if I may
ask?”

Antrey smiled just a bit. “To start
a revolution.”

Naath snorted. “Well, I’ve not
heard that before as a reason to need passage on a single ship. It’s original,
I’ll give you that.”

Antrey ignored the implied
derision. “So you’re not the captain, then?”

“No, no,” Naath said, shaking his
head. “I’m the second-in-command, if you will. But, between you and me, that means
I’m the one who really gets things done on the
Giant
.”

“Is that so?”

“Certainly,” he said, stepping from
the water at last. “Which means that I can do one of two things at this point.
First, I can order that these men get back in the launch, turn around, and row
back to the
Giant
. That would be the easier option, I can assure you.”

“But there is another?” Antrey
asked, hopeful.

“The other is to take you and your
people back with us,” he said. “Then we can talk with the captain about helping
you with your…revolution.” The way he said the word left no doubt as to his
thoughts on this absurdity.

“And this captain, since you are
the one who truly gets things done onboard, he will listen to your recommendation?”
Antrey asked, trying to stroke the Islander’s ego a bit.

“More than likely,” he said. “As
long as there’s some profit in it. The captain is a very base, simple man.”

Antrey turned around and waved to
the two men up the beach who had secreted away the trunk, gesturing for them to
bring it to her. Hirrek did nothing to stop her. “Would you like to see how we
can make it worth his trouble? And yours?”

“Aye,” Naath said, skepticism
written all over his face.

The trunk arrived and Antrey opened
it with an elaborate key made by one of Ushan’s craftsmen. In the firelight,
she saw Naath’s face change as surely as if he had been hit by divine
revelation.

It took four trips for Antrey, her
party, and all their possessions to be ferried out to the
Gentle Giant
.