Dreamlands (16 page)

“Hm. 
I rather fancy
Master Cat
, but it is too formal to use among friends. 
You may address me as
Parsil
.”

In
one fluid leap, Parsil transferred himself to Ajer’s left shoulder, where the
black man began to stroke his head, producing a deep, vibrating purr.

“All
right, Parsil,” I said, “have all cats heard about our mission?”

“Everyone
knows the broad outlines.  It has the makings of quite a romantic tale.  No
doubt someone will sing about it when it is all over.”

Erik
happened upon us just then.  I don’t know which left him more perplexed, the
appearance of a talking feline, or the sight of the animal riding high on our
friend’s shoulder.

“Parsil,”
the cat said to him, inclining his head slightly.

“Erik. 
I see you and Ajer have made friends.”

“I
appreciate a man who knows how to hold his tongue.  They are so rare.”

The
four of us continued towards the docks.

“Since
you and your friends are so well informed,” I said to Parsil, “can you tell me
anything about the yellow-eyed merchants?  I’ve seen none of them in Nagoordi.”

“One
of their execrable galleys was moored here about a week ago,” he said, “but
they didn’t come ashore.  In my opinion, they shouldn’t be allowed in the
harbour.”

I
exchanged a dire look with Ajer and Erik.  Isobel’s kidnapers maintained a
significant lead.

“They
make grave enemies,” the cat said, “but take heart.  In every port there are
folk who track the movements of their ships.  You simply need know who, and
how, to ask.  For instance, I happen to know the harbourmaster’s wife here in
Nagoordi.  Supply me with passage to Barrowgate and I will introduce you."

"Navigator?"
I said, since such decisions were technically Erik’s charge.

"My
only concern, Captain,” he said, grinning, “is that we should be end up in our guest’s
debt.”

"A
valid consideration," Parsil replied, raising a paw, "but let me put
you at ease.  I waive any compensation for my time and counsel."

* * *

Parsil
arranged for us to meet Nagoordi's harbourmaster the next morning.  Sharing the
cat’s low opinion of the men of Dylath-Leen, he was happy to show us the
mooring ledger.  Our quarry was indeed a week ahead, and a friendly hand on the
docks confirmed that they continued to hug the coast south.

“A
man who cannot speak and a cat that can,” quipped a passing merchant as I was reviewing
the cargo manifest a final time.  “Whoever you are hunting, you shall take them
by surprise.”  Silk dress and thickly beringed hands vouchsafed his wealth, yet
his wind-scoured face spoke of a lifetime on the sea. 

“If
you wish to sell something, speak with my quartermaster,” I said, “but be quick
about it.  We sail presently.”

“Not
at all, sir,” he laughed, gesturing broadly as he spoke.  “My name is Haroun, and
I do not sell.  I myself wish to buy from you.”

Since
there was little for me to do before we were underway, I let him speak his
piece.

“I
see your Peregrine before, sir.  She is a fine ship, but expensive to manage,
eh?  And the best fruit has already fallen in these little ports at the edge of
the map.”  He attempted a conspiratorial tone, but his habit of speaking in a booming
voice overrode him.  “No one else knows this, sirrah, but consider this
commonest of payloads, dates–”

Ajer
tossed his head impatiently and Erik translated, “We have dates already.”

“Yes,
yes,” Haroun replied, smiling.  “I am not selling dates, sirs.  I am telling
you there is a small harbour of no name, twenty miles north of Jundara.  Good
people there, none of these ahh–”  Haroun stroked his head to indicate a turban,
and so perfectly mimed a simpering smile I felt a chill on the back of my neck. 
“Do not pass this harbour by.  Put in with your dates and they will pay
handsomely.”

“I
have no shortage of people advising me on cargo,” I said, but Parsil, in the
midst of washing his face, missed my jibe, “but I’ll make a note of it.  I
suppose you want something in trade for this information.”

“Not
at all, sir,” he said, sweeping the suggestion away with both arms, “but I have
a cousin who I wish to see on a ship out of Nagoordi, out in the world.”  With a
theatrical flourish, Haroun jerked the cousin forward from where he had been
leaning against a stack of crates.

“He
doesn’t look good for much,” Erik opined, “but tell me he can at least tie
knots.”

“What
can he do?” I asked.

“What
he can do?” Haroun declared, incredulous.  “He do what you tell him!  He is
skinny boy, but he work hard.”  Erik smirked at this and Ajer rolled his eyes, both
undoubtedly recalling their own start as skinny boys.

“We
already have a young man to swab the deck and do odd jobs,” I said, meaning Marthin.
 The subject of our banter was younger than Marthin, or maybe malnourished, and
very deliberately trying to show no interest in his fate.

“Maybe
he like a friend,” Haroun said, so earnestly I couldn’t help but chuckle.  “Another
one don’t hurt you, as long as you don't worry about wages."

"We
won't," Erik interjected.

"Take
my cousin with you, my friend,” Haroun said, pressing a handful of coins on me. 
“I buy his passage.  He like to be called
Trout
, don’t ask me why.  If
he cause problem, put him ashore someplace and keep money as gift."

This
prompted the first reaction we had seen from Trout, a grimace so unsuited to
his youthful face we all roared with laughter.  We agreed to take him on,
though I would come to wish he shared a bit of Haroun’s garrulous good humour.

We
had hired extra hands from among the locals to spell our crew the night before,
and the ship was in the last stages of preparation.  Ajer guided the red-faced Trout
to where Jome was giving the signing-on speech to the other new recruits from
Nagoordi.

"All
men coming aboard the Peregrine,” Jome bellowed, “you needn't bring anything
with you, but if you have any personal articles they must fit inside a five
pound sack.  If you're smart you'll bring food, and if you know anything about
life on a ship you'll bring tobacco.  Return here in one hour and we sail."

Trout
was transfixed by Jome's tattoos, and remained standing dumbly after he had
finished, until Ajer sent him off with a shove and he ran home to gather whatever
mattered to him.

* * *

After
Nagoordi, Ajer and Erik began to share the role of bartering.  The latter
haggled with the vendor in an amiable way while the former looked on in stony
silence, a tactic which guaranteed us a small profit in every port.

Though
hardly essential, Trout proved able enough at the menial tasks he was assigned. 
He was not given to talk, and didn’t share in the crew’s camaraderie or speak much
with anyone except Marthin.  Having in common the disadvantages of a beardless
face and narrow back, the two quickly became inseparable.

With
the inbred superstition of mariners, most of the men avoided Parsil.  More
unusually, Huspeth also took no interest in him.  The augur spoke little,
spending long hours of each day in the captain’s cabin, a convenient
circumstance since the crew had no good will for her either.  About our talking
feline she said only, “Be cautious of the counsel of beasts.”

I
started to work extra hours alongside the crew, chasing exhaustion like a
fickle lover.  Evenings I spent with Ajer and Parsil, the cat nibbling at fish
the quartermaster would catch from the aft rail.  I so enjoyed his company that
for hours at a time I forgot I was speaking to an animal at all.  During our
talks, I also forgot the nagging dread that our pursuit was too slow, that
Isobel would slip away for good.

* * *

Barrowgate,
the third stop on our journey, was known both for its glassblowers and the tower
in its center square.  It was called a clock tower, though its four dials displayed
unidentified symbols and obsidian hands which moved according to no known logic
or pattern.  Whatever mechanism drove the device was equally enigmatic, for the
structure was both impregnable, and due to its polished surface, unscalable.

When
it was time for him to disembark, Parsil touched the scar on my forearm with
one paw.

“From
the accounts I had heard, I thought you were a bit of a fool, Captain Sloan. 
It was a regrettable error on my part.”

“An
easy one to make, I’m sure,” I said.

“Remember
that many places will not harbour the yellow-eyed merchants, and among their
opponents you will find fast friends.  You did me a good turn bringing me to
Barrowgate, and I look forward to one day returning the favour.”

As
the cat sauntered off, Ajer left immediately for the local market, his
expression unaccustomedly troubled.

“You
know,” I said to Erik, “I suspect Parsil will turn around and return to
Nagoordi with the next tide.  He wished to test the air between ports,
nothing more.”

“What
business could a cat have anyway?” Trout asked.

“Captain,”
Erik added on Trout’s behalf, with a swat to the back of his head.

“What
business could a cat have anyway, Captain?”

“Keep
pestering me with questions and I’ll make Jome your master.”

That
was a threat to turn any man pale, and he said no more on the subject.

* * *

Late
that evening, returning from more fruitless scouring of grog shops for
information and rumour, Erik and I stumbled upon two men in the midst of a huddled
transaction.  I was surprised to see that Orvuhlt was one of them.  The sailor
typically spent his nights ashore neck deep in a barrel of ale.  His opposite
was selling cubical paper packets from a tray.

“What’s
this,” I interrupted, “some special sort of tea?”  I picked up and sniffed at
one of them.  My inclination had been friendly, but a smell like burnt cinnamon
made my stomach clench.  I dropped the one I held and knocked the other from
Orvuhlt’s hand.

“This
is poison,” I said.  “I won’t have it on the ship.”

He
bent to retrieve his purchase and secreted it one of his many pockets.

“You
are new to this job if you think to tell me my business when I’m in port.”  He
paused meaningfully.  “Captain.”

Orvuhlt
strode off and the merchant made haste to do the same, leaving me to glare at
my second in command.

“I
hope you don’t expect me to take your side of this,” Erik said.

“Do
you know what he was buying?”

“No.”

“I’ve
smelled that same foul thing before, and when I did nothing good came of it. 
It could even be wilt for all we know.”

“Orvuhlt
isn’t our best man, but he’s in the right.  In port, every man is his own
master.”  Erik was already heading again for the Peregrine.  “And gods help us
if any of them don’t turn up tomorrow.”

* * *

Dusk
was falling on the day we arrived at Haroun’s unnamed harbour.  Two hours later,
Ajer and Jome returned with heavy purses and eight men in a hurry to collect
their purchase.

The
dates were as valuable as the merchant described,
Ajer
said.

“Good
news, I suppose,” Erik replied, “but there will be little enough to spend it on
if we continue heading south.”

“Our
most recent information gives them two day’s lead,” I said.  “We’ll push on
tomorrow.”

In
such a small port there would be little in the way of entertainment, except for
the trouble sailors make themselves, and I reminded the crew that any man not
on board come first light would be left behind.  Jome, Orvuhlt and a few others
took a drink at the one inn but were put out shortly thereafter and returned to
the ship.

The
next day, Ajer roused the men before sunrise, walking the length of the crew’s
quarters clapping his hands.  After this, any who didn’t step up smartly were
tipped out of their hammocks.  Erik started his day by counting heads.

“Remember
the tower we saw on the headland on the way in?” he said when he had finished.

“The
old lighthouse,” I replied.

“Yes.
 I too assumed it was a lighthouse, though no lamp was lit to guide us in.  Someone
was up there in the dead of night, signaling.

“Are
you sure it was a signal?” I asked apprehensively.  “Was there an answer?”

“The
pattern was repeated three times.  I saw no answer.”

“I
don’t know whether to be glad you spotted it or not,” I grunted, “since there’s
nothing we can do about it.  If you’ve finished the count let’s make way.”

“I
was about to tell you there’s one missing, Trout.”

Jome
was calling the few men stretching their legs on the pier to board when our
wayward swab came into view, sprinting for the gangplank.  We were already
taking in our lines, so it couldn’t have been a much closer thing.