But the pirates feared Baron Endbrook, and so they obeyed. Their code was such that a single man or woman might have challenged him, but a mutiny was not likely—at least not on such slim provocation. They were moderately comfortable, well fed, and rested. Sailors one and all, they were accustomed to a captain's autocratic reign.
The seeds for a mutiny were there, however, and Waln saw them watered by the half-mad grin of little Citrine. What he had done to her was the club that had beaten them; somehow she might yet be a weapon turned against him.
R
estless, impatient for he knew not what, Derian curried Roanne's coat until the chestnut gleamed like polished copper. He was taking out a dandy brush for some fine work when Elation's shriek alerted him to the falcon's arrival. The peregrine glided down to rest on one of the rails of the makeshift corral Derian and Edlin had constructed. The young lord had proved apt with an axe, less so with knots, but grinningly eager to learn. The end result was a lashed rectangle that used trees as posts, secure enough to hold the horses and mules from wandering, though not strong enough to resist if they made a concerted effort to get free.
Having heard from Firekeeper that the swamps contained their share of pumas, Derian thought it best not to so secure the herbivores so that they would become a tavern for the satisfaction of wandering wildcats.
Elation squawked when he came over and sleeked her feathers with one hand. He still felt a glow of joy—tinged with pride—that the peregrine permitted him the privilege. She could have as easily taken off one of his fingers.
A distant rumble of horse hooves told Derian that Elation had not joined him only for company.
"Thanks," he said. "I'll go tell the others."
He found all but Edlin in camp. Wendee, Elise, and Firekeeper were in a tight knot off to one side, apparently in the midst of some heated discussion. He wondered if Firekeeper was resisting changing her clothes again.
Doc stood by the fireside, pouring himself tea.
"Heads up," Derian called. "Company—probably the princess or some of her people."
That broke up the colloquy at the camp's edge. The three women returned in step. Elise looked worried, Wendee apprehensive, and Firekeeper as impassive as a stone—only the way she tangled her fingers in Blind Seer's ruff gave indication that she was less than tranquil.
About a dozen riders swept to the edge of their camp. Sapphire and Shad rode at the core.
With his horseman's eye, Derian noted that their mounts all showed signs of strain, but that none had been pressed beyond endurance.
Sapphire rode the Blue—an indication that she, at least, had kept the same mount since Eagle's Nest. The warhorse snapped square yellow teeth when one of the other horses accidently ventured too close, then stamped with uneasy malice when it caught sight of Blind Seer. Sapphire calmed her steed easily, almost idly, but then she had always been a fine horsewoman.
The crown princess glanced around their little camp and a smile touched one corner of her mouth. Only after she had surveyed it and approved its neatness did she look at the group gathered to welcome her. Elise and Wendee wore kerchiefs that concealed the worst of the mutilation to their hair, but, despite the cold, Firekeeper went bareheaded, her shaven head visible for all to see.
Derian saw the crown princess's eyes narrow, but when she spoke her words were routinely conversational.
"Nice place here," she said. "I thought to have my troops set up camp in the field beyond."
She gestured west and slightly south.
"Good choice," Derian replied. "There's fresh water in the area. I don't know where there might be more."
"Captain," Sapphire said, nodding to one of her riders, "bring on the rest of the troop. Tell them to set up an orderly camp. No one—and I mean no one—is to venture into the swamp without our direct orders."
Derian bit back a smile as Sapphire included Prince Shad in her last comment. The Bright Bay sailor sat his horse well, but his training had been to command at sea. Clearly he was content to let his wife handle matters on land. Derian admired Shad's composure. Most young men—and Shad was only slightly older than Derian himself—would have needed to prove themselves, if to no one other than themselves.
"You've kept well out of sight," Sapphire commented, swinging down out of the saddle and tossing the Blue's reins to the nearest rider. "My advance scout—" she nodded toward one of the riders, "—had some trouble finding you."
"We thought it wisest," Derian said, bowing respectfully as he spoke. "Firekeeper's been in the swamp, but no one other than Lord Edlin has ventured beyond the edges."
"Edlin?" Sapphire's brow furrowed. "That idiot's here?"
Defense for the young lord came from an unexpected quarter.
"My brother," Firekeeper said calmly—and she offered no bow, "is no idiot."
Sapphire's blue eyes flashed, but she caught herself before she descended into an unfitting wrangle. Seeing that his wife was temporarily out of words, Prince Shad intervened smoothly.
"Fitting that you defend your brother," he said, dismounting and offering Firekeeper a warm smile, "since we are here to rescue our sister. Tell us all that has happened. How did you come here? How did you learn of this situation? The note Sir Jared sent was understandably short on particulars."
Sapphire recovered herself enough to nod.
"Glynn," she said to the rider who held the Blue's reins, "why don't the rest of you join the others in setting up camp? Unless there's real need, don't trouble us."
Glynn, a handsome woman with thick dark hair drawn up into a knot at the back of her head, nodded and turned her gaze—reluctantly, Derian thought—from her inspection of the little camp and its inhabitants.
As all but the prince and princess took their leave, general greetings were exchanged. Wendee Jay was introduced, and her connection to both Duchess Kestrel and Firekeeper explained.
Once
, Derian thought, his mood balanced between relief that Sapphire had checked her temper, and amusement,
Sapphire would have thought a servant beneath her knowledge
.
He felt a twinge of satisfaction that he had been one of those who had forced the proud woman to alter her view.
Lord Edlin sauntered in, three rabbits dangling from his hand, as they were settling themselves about the fire.
"I say!" he said. "I thought it might be royalty come to call when Bold came squawking after me. Hello, cousins!"
His bow was more a waist-level bounce than a courtly obeisance. From her expression, Firekeeper was forgiving Sapphire for thinking her adopted brother an idiot.
"Don't mind me," Edlin said, sitting himself on the fringes of their circle. "I'll just sit here and clean my catch."
He began to do so immediately, tossing the offal to the crow and wolf—Elation was too proud to descend to such—as relaxed as if this were some hunting trip and not the advent of a desperate venture whose ending no one could even guess.
"Tell us everything," Prince Shad repeated. "How did you come on Lady Melina?"
They told their tale much as it had happened, for it became clear that skipping any detail would lead to questions. Only Firekeeper edited her part, playing down her trip west until it sounded as if she had merely decided to go after the artifacts as something of a lark.
Derian caught a glimpse of Elise's expression—a glower moderated by evident worry—before the young woman smoothed it from her face.
Something has happened between them
, he thought.
Something to do with the artifacts
.
Telling took hours, for they could not explain how they got into Thendulla Lypella without explaining about Grateful Peace and they could not explain about Grateful Peace without explaining something about the governmental structure of New Kelvin. Unlike Elise, neither Sapphire or Shad had ever been very interested in foreign countries—though Shad, as a sailor, knew something of Waterland and other seafaring nations.
Had Derian not known Firekeeper well, he might have thought she slept there on the ground, her head pillowed on Blind Seer's flank, but he did know her and the tension he had sensed in her earlier had not left, it had merely been subdued.
When, at last, they ended their tale with an account of how they had decided to come east after Citrine, Sapphire sighed and spoke.
"Well, Mother certainly has taken a great deal upon herself," she said, "and so I certainly can't blame you for doing the same. Why didn't you come to us sooner?"
From where she lay, her eyes still closed, Firekeeper said:
"Diplomacy. Too slow."
Shad, perhaps fearing that this time Sapphire would not keep her temper, cut in quickly.
"Inelegantly put, my dear, but Firekeeper does have a point. If the matter had been resolved through diplomatic channels we'd still be trying to confirm that Lady Melina was in Dragon's Breath, and that the New Kelvinese had been in possession of the artifacts. By the way, who has them now?"
"I do," Firekeeper said, this time opening her eyes and sitting up. "They are safe. Safer than Citrine now that pirates must notice horses and camps and troops all over here."
She waved to indicate the military camp that had taken shape very efficiently despite the semifrozen ground.
"How long do we wait to go for her?"
Sir Jared, who had been mostly content to let others do the narrating, now intervened.
"Firekeeper is again inelegant," he said quickly, "but she does have a point. She's been scouting the area around Smuggler's Light and from her reports Edlin has been roughing out a map. Defenses are even better than they were two years ago when I was here with Princess Lovella."
This firm but gentle reminder that he was the only veteran present of that ill-fated campaign gave Doc's words unwonted authority. The question of the artifacts was put aside—though Derian did not doubt it would be raised again—and the matter of rescuing Citrine approached with new urgency.
"Lord Edlin," Prince Shad said, "you're a cartographer?"
His skill in this area had been mentioned during the earlier report and now Edlin beamed.
"I do fairly well, what?" said the young lord with a grin.
"You'd be honored in Bright Bay," the crown prince continued. "Sailors love maps almost as much as they love ships. Let us see your latest effort."
This, when produced, was less colorful than the Dragon's Breath map, but, since Edlin had packed along his drawing supplies, it was still a work of art. Even Sapphire looked impressed as the map was unrolled and the corners weighted down with rocks so that all could see it.
"The birds do help with getting the overview," Edlin explained happily, "and Firekeeper is a joy for noting varied terrain and rises and such. I've done my best to shadow in the high ground and the worst of the bogholes and such. I've even had her tell me some of the major landmarks."
Shad traced some of the darker green lines.
"There seem to be several quite clear routes to Smuggler's Light."
"Not so clear," Firekeeper said, sounding disgruntled, "but there, yes."
Derian sensed that it was his turn to cut in.
"Firekeeper sees things no average scout would," he explained. "Even Race Forester was astonished by her wood's lore. I suggest that rather than depending on the map, you have her first take your scouts along any route you want to use—get them used to it."
To his relief, Shad was nodding.
"Like harbor pilots," he said. "Good idea. Now that we've finished discussing the more—uh—delicate matters…"
Like cursed artifacts, you mean
? Derian thought sarcastically.
And unauthorized espionage within the borders of technically friendly nations
—
stuff like that
?
"Now that we've finished with those matters," Shad continued, "and don't really need to discuss them again for now, I think it would be a good idea to invite some of our troop commanders to join us. From what I gathered during the war, land commanders expect to confer and such, not like at sea."
Of course at sea
, Derian continued his silent commentary,
it's rather harder to get everyone together, isn't it? Every man isn't an island, but every ship does a pretty fine imitation
.
What he said aloud was:
"Would Your Majesties prefer us to adjourn to your camp? I see that the royal pavilion has been raised."
Sapphire shook her head.
"Better not to encourage eavesdropping. In any case, if the pirates haven't noticed us yet, Firekeeper's right, they will. A spy would find sneaking up on this camp, especially with Blind Seer and Firekeeper here, pretty impossible."
She's buttering up Firekeeper
, Derian thought, amazed.
When she arrived, the two of them were like alley cats spitting at each other. Now it's praise and flattery. I wonder what she wants
?
Over a meal delivered by the royal couple's camp stewards, their augmented group discussed the various approaches to Smuggler's Light—their advantages and disadvantages, the need for building portable bridges, the question of how to get troops across the killing ground fairly intact.
The longer they talked, the further they defined the situation; the further they defined the situation, the less certain Derian felt that they would find any way inside. Smuggler's Light seemed an impenetrable fortress. The pirates held not only the high ground, but the most valuable playing piece on the board, and, to make matters worse, if Firekeeper was right, they were prepared for trouble.
Shad and Sapphire had arrived in midmorning. The sky was dusking into evening when Princess Sapphire pushed a hand through her thick blue-black hair and said:
"The situation looks pretty desperate, doesn't it?"
One of her squad commanders, a veteran of Princess Lovella's failed attack, spoke for them all.
"It does, Your Majesty. The place is better protected than before. We don't know how many people are in there, but they don't need many to hold it."
Sapphire nodded agreement, shared a glance with Shad that—to Derian's eyes—looked positively conspiratorial.