Dragonfang (33 page)
They boarded the
Dragonfang
and located Captain Porterby.
‘Cast off, sail now!’ Jelindel cried.
‘What? But the crew. We should wait for the rest of them, Jaelin. And who are all these people?’
‘This says that your crew is now discharged,’ said Daretor slapping a dozen gold crowns from the alien world into the captain’s palm.
‘Look lively!’ Captain Porterby yelled. ‘All hands on deck. Cast off.’
With the tide running, it was only a matter of slipping the moorings, waiting until they were clear of the pier, and running up the sails. Their only obstacle were the milling vessels as they fought to escape the mayhem.
A light wind increased the speed that the current had given
them. By the time the Preceptor’s men came running down the pier, they were past the rock-fanged shoal waters of the cape and sailing east. The lights of pursuing ships became visible for a while, but the
Dragonfang
outclassed them in sheer speed.
Jelindel plotted a course. They would encircle the continent completely, in order to reach D’loom.
‘That’s a daunting risk,’ Captain Porterby said, when Jelindel presented him with a chart. ‘There’s nothing along that coast till we reach Centravian.’
‘As far as risks go, Captain, this one is of no consequence compared to what we’ve chanced on this trip. And the last I heard, the Preceptor hadn’t moved on Centravian, so it’s in neutral hands.’ She stared at the western horizon. ‘With any luck, the privateers will run into the Preceptor’s sloops. They should make quite a mess of each other.’
What happened was not far from what Jelindel predicted. Frustrated by the
Dragonfang
’s elusiveness, the privateers bombarded the Preceptor’s vessels with firepots, mistaking the Sezelian sloops for local fishermen. By the time they realised their mistake, seven sloops had sunk. Fearing retribution, the privateers broke off and set a course for home. Plunder from the sacking of Mordicar was sure to bring trouble with it eventually.
A
day out from Mordicar, Captain Porterby, in an uncharacteristic display of authority, sent for Jelindel. When she knocked on his door, it was Zimak who opened it and beckoned her in. He took a quick look down the companionway before closing the door.
‘Jaelin,’ Captain Porterby said gravely. ‘It appears all is not what it seems.’
Jelindel looked fleetingly at Daretor and Zimak. How much had they told him? After her own deceit, she could hardly expect them to be loyal, yet … Testing her heightened senses, she knew at once that Daretor had the situation under control. Zimak was giving off frustration mingled with anger and excitement, while the captain was simply confused and saddened.
‘The lads have told me most of the story,’ Captain Porterby continued in the same grave manner, ‘and I must say I find it all very hard to believe.’ He paused. ‘And disappointing, Jaelin. If half of it is true, very disappointing.’
Jelindel’s hopes soared. He was still calling her Jaelin, which meant Daretor and Zimak hadn’t given
everything
away.
‘I suppose there are the pentacle gems,’ she said, smiling in Zimak’s direction.
‘So you had them all along,’ the captain said. ‘That Zarian Senior Constable –’
‘Was right and wrong,’ Jelindel interrupted. ‘I didn’t obtain any pentacle gems until we reached Hazaria, and I didn’t steal them, either. We already had one on board. I suspect that Hargav and Larachel were the culprits back in Zaria.’
‘Hargav,’ the captain spluttered. ‘He’s a
boy.
’
‘And a crafty one at that,’ Jelindel said. ‘I
was
at the library that night, true, but I believe there were also two thieves present. One stole
The Book of Alchemorum
, the other a pentacle gem. Since we have only two likely suspects on board, the thieves are most likely to be Hargav and Larachel.’
‘Are you suggesting that they’re in league?’ Captain Porterby shook his head. ‘This is all very irregular, I must say.’
‘It seems highly probable,’ Jelindel conceded.
‘But to what end, may I ask?’
‘I’m not sure of Larachel’s motives, but I suspect Hargav needed the pentacle gem to trade for his father.’
‘And where did you say you “found” yours?’ the captain queried.
‘I didn’t.’ Jelindel turned to Daretor and Zimak. ‘That part of the story is personal. However, the pentacle gems have to be returned to a certain lady.’
‘Hmm,’ the captain mumbled. ‘What about the Preceptor? What was his part in all this?’
Jelindel shrugged. ‘One can only assume he is after the pentacle gems.’
‘To what end? Talk sense.’
‘For absolute power – why ever else?’ Jelindel said, bemused by the captain’s confusion. ‘A ringstone powered by five pentacle gems allows travel between paraworlds.’ Before the captain could interrupt, she said, ‘Don’t even ask, Captain. Suffice to say there are other worlds within the space we occupy, and High Adepts can travel between them. But the technique is difficult and imprecise. With D’rudar’s engine, destinations can be pre-ordained, eliminating the risk of winding up in hostile lands.’
‘Like we did,’ Zimak said.
‘Indeed,’ Jelindel said, almost apologetically. ‘The Duke knew how to operate the ringstone engine. The Preceptor merely went along with him, but he had no intention of leaving without all the gems. This would explain why he had such a large guard with him. Either way, the Duke was going to fall – it was simply a matter of when.’
‘And just
why
would the Preceptor go to so much trouble to travel between these … worlds?’
‘To bring back armies, Captain,’ Jelindel said. ‘His resources are stretched.’ She stepped over to the captain’s chart board. With her index finger she traced out the Preceptor’s expanding territories. ‘The eastern and southern states are all that’s left, according to recent estimations. If he spreads himself any thinner, he’ll expose his flank and that will be the end of his empire. He needs new recruits.’
The captain sat back in his chair, clearly still confused. ‘And why would anyone from another world fight for someone here?’
‘For the same reason as anyone else. Money, plunder, slaves.’ She turned to Zimak. ‘Tell me that you couldn’t have brought back an army on the promise of riches.’
‘I never got the chance,’ Zimak fumed.
‘Point taken,’ Jelindel said. ‘Gathering armies would have
been easy. How the Preceptor expected to contain them once he conquered Q’zar is another matter, but not one that obviously concerned him.’
Captain Porterby slapped the table with the flat of his hands. ‘Really, Jaelin, this is all too much. We have a fortune on board that we can’t spend, because there is no safe anchorage or harbour. The states the Preceptor hasn’t conquered yet are probably so full of his damnable spies that we’d be dead within an hour of stepping ashore. I have Hargav and Larachel, two devious characters who, by all accounts, have set us on a course to destruction. And we have the Preceptor and his Adept 12 scouring the seas for us.’
‘There is however a bright side,’ Jelindel said.
‘And what might that be?’ he queried.
‘We have the fastest vessel on the sea and more than a full crew, five pentacle gems that will ensure that no ship will sink us for fear of losing them, and some of the finest fighters on the continent.’ She eyed Daretor. ‘And let’s not forget a chest full of gold oriels.’
Captain Porterby dismissed them and poured himself a brandy with an unsteady hand. His early retirement suddenly looked highly unlikely, or at very best, distant.
Of all the reactions Jelindel might have expected from Hargav’s father, sullen annoyance had to be rather close to the bottom of the list. The man was courteous to everyone, yet he seemed to avoid his son, and when they did speak, Hargav could do nothing right.
Jelindel tried her best to help, mentioning Hargav’s bravery and his quick uptake of seafaring as a career, but it did little good.
If anything, it seemed to make matters worse. She thought about it for a while. By all indications the family was an old and noble one. Hargav was Augerin’s only son and destined to be the heir to his title. Yet here he was, enjoying the life of a common sailor.
Not having a family, and not even being a boy, made it a little hard for Jelindel to be an effective counsellor in such matters. But she decided to make an attempt, anyway. She approached Hargav one morning when he was splicing rope on the foredeck.
‘I suppose your father will want you to give up the seafaring life,’ said Jelindel. She sat beside Hargav and picked up a rope end to unravel.
‘You do not have to be very bright to see that,’ replied Hargav.
‘Have you been arguing?’
‘Quite a lot. Has it been so obvious? We did keep our voices down.’
‘I … keep my eyes and ears open. It keeps me alive.’
‘You – you mean you listened in on us?’ gasped Hargav.
‘Not deliberately, but you might have raised your voices more than you intended, and I make it my business to sound out trouble before it gets out of hand.’
‘What did you hear?’
An interesting situation, thought Jelindel. The boy obviously thought she knew more than she did. If she strung him along, she might learn quite a lot.
‘All the usual things that are said in such a situation,’ improvised Jelindel. ‘You are a disgrace to the family, he will never live it down, he did not need rescuing – that sort of thing.’
‘Ah, Jelindel, I suspect you are being discreet by not mentioning all the names that he also called me,’ Hargav sighed. ‘But, please, can you do me a little favour for the rest of the voyage?’
‘Anything, just ask. I would be glad to speak to your father again if –’
‘No. No, not that. Anyway, he would not listen. But please, when we are alone, and out of earshot of others, do call me Hargrellien.’
Hargrellien. A girl’s name. The bottom promptly fell out of Jelindel’s stomach. She opened her mouth, and began to draw a breath to say ‘Oh, that’s nice,’ then decided that those three words were not at all appropriate to the moment.
‘And Jaelin, when I told father that I love you, I really did mean it. It breaks my heart that you had to hear the words in an argument between me and my father, but I assure you they were spoken with all possible tenderness.’
I’ve died and gone to hell, was Jelindel’s initial thought. The words would never do, of course, so there remained the matter of what to say and how to say it.
‘Er … when did you, that is, realise?’
‘Oh, right from our first meeting. You are a true gentleman. None of the men on the ship even approaches you for gallantry, refinement, bravery and courtesy. Were I really a boy, I would want to be exactly like you.’
Were you a boy you might find that a rather extreme length to go to, thought Jelindel.
‘Look … this has come as something of a shock to me,’ she admitted. ‘And, and, and I am going to have to say something that you probably don’t want to hear, but –’
‘Oh, I know you probably don’t love me yet, silly. That is because you have been thinking of me as a boy, but all that is past. When we are alone, and away from prying eyes, I shall take you in my arms and press you against the softness beneath my shirt. You will be truly surprised by what you feel.’
‘Not half as surprised as you will be,’ sighed Jelindel. ‘My real name is Jelindel, and there are breasts under my shirt, too.’
Jelindel gained some respite from the fact that it was now Hargrellien who was dumbfounded. They continued splicing ropes.
The minutes passed, then became an hour. Jelindel looked into the splicing basket and found that it was empty. ‘Well, at least this clarifies things between us,’ she said.
‘One might say that,’ muttered Hargrellien, coiling up her last length of tarry rope. ‘I should have known you were too good to be true.’
‘Hargrellien. That’s a pretty name.’
‘Fat lot of good it does me now.’
‘Well, you won Annatel’s heart. How do you think she will feel when she finds out?’
‘Can’t see what she saw in me,’ muttered Hargrellien, standing up and shrugging.
‘Perhaps it was a young gentleman, a little shy and vulnerable, but full of gallantry, refinement, bravery and courtesy.’
‘You are mocking me.’
‘Never. We are lucky girls, Hargrellien. We have the opportunity to see men looking at women, yet talking to us as other men. It gives one a rather brutal, but honest view of what they really think. Most of the time it is rather depressing, but just occasionally you see someone who really is gallant, refined, brave and courteous.’
‘How often?’
‘Well, I never have, I suppose, but I have met a man who was three out of four – and well, let’s face it, refined people can be so boring.’
‘So what now?’ asked Hargrellien.
‘We could always go down to my cabin, open a bottle of wine, and give the crew a rating for gallantry, refinement, bravery and courtesy.’
‘Only if I can put my father on the list,’ said Hargrellien.
