Adversaries Together (22 page)

“
If we go back out there
we’re just going to be covered in this shit again.”

Cochrane shook his head, “Festival is only on
the main avenue, we’re leaving out the back.”

“
Whatever,” Towsend sat up
and wiping himself down, “Bloodtangle is showing up in Wick. He’ll
just be waiting for us?”

“
He’ll have a proper ship
to take us back.”

“
And he can be
trusted?”

“
I know him.” Cochrane said
assertively.

“
Alright,” Towsend stood,
went over to the basin, and began to wash himself, “I just think
this a bad idea.”

“
When don’t you think
that?” Cochrane chuckled.

Towsend shrugged, “Fair enough.” His face was
washed of color. He pinned his hair back and slipped his shirt off.
Grabbing the rag Cochrane had used he rinsed it a bit and began to
wipe down his shoulders, neck, and temples.

“
Look, either we convince
the Lappalans and make it back with good news or we don’t. Either
way…there’s a reason we were chosen for this.” Cochrane was solemn.
He opened the door and mumbled about heading to the
privy.

Towsend nodded his face hanging above the
gray water of the basin. He whispered to himself, “Either way.”

Rikonen,
6
^th
of
Mabon

Wynne sat alone in the quiet at a desk in
the athenaeum, before him a cold cup of tea and three thin books.
Each book was a bright clean red, their covers a well-maintained
leather, and the page edges gilded gold. He had already read each
twice over but he reached over and opened the top book once again.
The pages were a translucent onionskin on which it looked as though
the ink had barely touched. The script was tiny, but still betrayed
a gentle rolling slant. The language looked lovely and seemed to
exist to tempt an illiterate to learn or one ignorant of the tongue
to take it up.

He turned each page as though he were
caressing the book. In no way was he rushed, but he also wasn’t
looking at the pages, rather he gazed off through the stacks of the
library. He suddenly stopped and turned to face the page—one with
no illustration or marginal commentary, instead a dense passage.
His fingers slide over the page smoothing it, then drew the back of
his hand up to the top of the page. His middle finger followed
along the written lines like a Cathedral yad. About a third of the
way down, he paused and gently tapped the page.

The library wasn’t large but it was full of
high shelves stacked tight. There were three long tables, each
layered in tomes of varying thickness piled atop each other in
dubious towers. Wynne’s desk stood at the end of the room opposite
the entrance. Someone coming into the library would not have seen
him until they were well in the room, so when Fery spoke it didn’t
startle him though she sounded quite surprised.

“
Father. I thought…” Wynne
was still staring at the book, his hand unmoved.

“
Sit, dear. I’m
thinking.”

Fery pulled out a chair from a nearby table
and sat across from her father. She didn’t speak, but stared at him
intently. The girl didn’t fidget, but it was clear she was eager to
speak.

“
I’m listening,
Fery.”

“
I’m sorry I didn’t mean
to…” She gestured at his books.

Wynne made a dismissive face and beckoned her
closer, “You don’t need to apologize.”

“
I just know that you’re
busy.”

Wynne moved quickly with purpose, he closed
the book without slamming it and turned to face his daughter, “I am
only busy because you aren’t here. You are here now.” He smiled
warmly, and Fery returned the grin.

“
I’m worried for the woman
that the sailors brought.”

“
Is she
alright?”

“
She still isn’t talking
much.”

“
But she’s eating? She’s
healing well?”

Fery nodded, “Absolutely. She’s mostly just
bruised. Soon she will be at full health.” She paused, and then
added, “She’s bruised in all sorts of places.”

“
Is that the issue?” Wynne
had been certain that the corsairs had abused Kira, yet he still
held out hope that they had merely beat her. He felt wretched and
guilt-ridden thinking about it.

“
She isn’t talking. She
really only responds to the most basic questions and even then
gives only short answers.”

“
The men that brought her
to us were not good men. They treated her roughly and she’ll need
time to recover from that…in her mind, Fery.”

“
I just…” Wynne could hear
the anger and frustration in Fery’s voice, “I want to help her but
I don’t know what I can do. I don’t want to force her to do
anything or make her feel overwhelmed, but I don’t want to give her
so much space that she thinks she’s all alone. I feel like I’m
failing her.”

There were moments when Wynne realized just
how glad he was to have Fery back in his life; how proud of her
he’d become. This was one of those moments, and since their
reunion, they were coming more and more often. It hurt him to think
how long he’d been away from her.

“
Fery, you are doing all
you can. Kira must come to us in her own time and in her own way.
We need to be present when she decides what she needs or wants, we
must just be ready and be open. We are returning her to
safety.”

Fery nodded but she was obviously
unconvinced, “But can we do that?”

Wynne blinked surprised. Fery qualified her
question, “Here, I mean.”

“
Because of The Blockade,
because of the city?”

“
Yes, all those and more. I
just…” Fery choked a bit, “We’re living precariously enough. It was
all we could do to find you and bring you home. And then this girl,
this plan…”

“
It wasn’t our doing.”
Wynne asserted. “Bringing her here, using those mercenaries. It
wasn’t something we had a hand in deciding. That’s why we have to
be the ones she deals with, we owe that to her.”

“
I just don’t think…” She
took a moment and thought hard. “I don’t think this scheme of
theirs will work, it’ll only hurt her and us.”

“
You are entirely correct.”
Wynne understood her misgivings, he had felt them himself when the
remaining civics had approached him with their plan. But they were
too far along to retract or erase what was done. Wynne’s only hope
now was to alter the path now. Yet, he still had lingering
concerns, concerns that he could see mirrored in his daughter’s
face.

“
This is our last chance to
free this city, to end the siege, give Essia its full freedom
again. Kira is vital. We have had a hand in wounding her; we are
guilty of that, each of us. Thus we must set her aright again and
hope that she will come back around to the place we need her to
be.”

“
Even if that happens,
there is no guarantee.”

“
There is never any
certainty, Fery. Ever.”

“
It’s too hard.”

“
Any difficulty you are
feeling,” Wynne took Fery’s hand and held it lovingly, “and I know
that you are truly wrestling with this, the hardship you are
experiencing is a thousand fold in her mind, in her heart. She may
never come back to us. She may never come back. She could very well
come out of this with a vehement and justifiable hate of
us.”

“
We must just accept
that.”

“
To be just.
Yes.”

“
Otherwise?”

“
Otherwise we are no longer
who we are; we become what our enemies believe we are; we become
our enemies.”

“
And it causes all of us to
grind down.” Fery nodded.

Wynne pulled Fery closer and kissed her on
the forehead, “No one can stand over others, and we all must stand
tall together to stand at all.”

“
I understand.
Though…”

“
Though.”

“
I still can’t imagine how
you’ve come to be so accepting.”

“
There is no other way to
be.”

Fery gave a wistful smile, “I shall be there
for Kira. As I am here for you.”

Wynne smiled and Fery got up and left. Still
sitting he turned his head and listened to hear her leave. He
seemed frozen for a moment, and then turned around to the desk,
scooped up the books, stood and turned to leave. He knew Fery could
bring Kira back, but he wasn’t sure the alm would come back and not
hate him. It was difficult and worrisome. Leaving the athenaeum,
the books still in his hands, he turned and walked with purpose to
the suite of the Prime Alder.

He had found it. Hours in the shelves combing
over lineages and canonical law, but he found the information
needed. Now he just needed the authority to act. If Kira came
around and persuaded of his plan, then he would have leverage.
However there was no certainty that that would happen any time
soon. In the meantime, he needed to set the groundwork and get
underway. If the other alders saw it his way, then the change of
course could go far in securing the future of not just the city but
also the nation. Wynne didn’t trust the Cathedral but it seemed as
though there was a rift he could exploit. He was certain his
contacts in the Spires could be trusted so long as he gave them the
impression of control and profit.

The Alders, the Cathedral,
and the Spires
, Wynne thought to
himself,
all of this is going to be a
headache for the foreseeable future.
He
had reached the Prime Alder’s suite. He pulled a thin, long iron
key from his sleeve and unlocked the door. It swung open to reveal
a simple room with a small cot and desk covered in parchments and
melted candles.

Wynne sighed and muttered, “I had better
quarters at the lighthouse.” He closed the door behind him.

The Blockade of Rikonen,
10
^th
of Mabon

The supplies the Essians
had granted them were no small favor. The stores of the
Kopis
were now full, and
if they desired, they could sail from Far Port to Wick ten times
over before they needed to consider resupplying.

No doubt
, Riv thought,
we’ll fortify our
caches throughout the Novostos and Avostos. That is, if they ever
left the damn Blockade.

Since their return from the
rendezvous, Asa had been in a rage. The killing of his own men to
make more room for treasure had been an extreme but not out of
character reaction. For all the other crewmen aboard the
Kopis
knew, Asa returned
not just with a chest of aurei but a tender near brimming with
supplies and the promise of two more like loads. They saw this
contract as a great success, looked at Asa as being an adroit
captain, and they were more than placated. Asa could take the ship
anywhere he wanted; he could even take a more aggressive stance
toward his rival traffickers. Yet he lingered. He lingered, taking
on a menial contract to transport two cadres of marines (green
recruits just completing their first deployment) back to Anhra. Riv
wasn’t sure what his captain wanted, but he was certain that he was
stewing over something trivial.

Asa sat in his cabin aboard
the
Kopis
eating
his dinner and gazing out the ship’s window as the sun descended.
His eyes were blank, his hand idled over his plate, and he had been
chewing the same bit of peafowl for the last fifteen minutes. Riv
sat with his back to the window finishing his own plate. He stood,
walked across the room, and took up a full bottle of port;
refilling his own glass, he came over to Asa and stood. The captain
turned his head slightly, Riv shrugged a bit with the bottle, Asa
nodded, and Riv poured a full glass then returned to his
seat.

He drank deep and stared at his own glass as
he spoke to his captain, “We need to be moving on.”

Asa grunted then violently spat out the food
he had been chewing, “You are not wrong.” Leaning back in his
chair, Asa continued to stare out the window.

“
The men are in no rush as
of yet, but they will be getting itchy soon.”

“
We’ll be heading to Anhra
once the last unit arrives from the core of the chain.”

“
And then?” Riv asked. Asa
was silent, but Riv pressed, “We have more than we need, more than
we came with, more than we expected to get.”

Although he raised his glass to his lips, but
he didn’t drink and in a near whisper said, “No.”

“
Captain, sorry?” Riv
asked.

“
No, we didn’t. We didn’t
get more than we expected.”

“
You didn’t.”

Asa drank down the whole glass then let it
fall from his grip onto the floor, “I didn’t. I didn’t get what I
expected. I didn’t get what I came for.”

“
But we did get what we
needed.”

“
I didn’t get what I
wanted.”

“
And that’s going to ruin
this company.” Asa threw Riv a stern look, filled with undeniable
rage.

Riv continued, “It will ruin this company,”
he sipped his drink, “your brooding, this…tantrum of yours. And
that will turn the men and that will ruin our stores and that will
lose you your ship.”

“
You would take my ship?”
Asa said contemptuously.