Healer's Touch (33 page)

“There’s a second ship.”

“Where?” Isolda turned in the direction Chari was staring. Orange lights outlined three tall masts—no merchantman at all, but a sleek frigate. “What in the Soldier’s Hell?”

“It’s got to be Kjallan,” said Chari.

“Or it could be a pirate.” Isolda backed her oars. The
Frolic
had seen the orange-lighted ship too and was turning around. The blue light-glows illuminating its masts and spars were winking out, one by one. Meanwhile, the newcomer was coming on fast. Already she could see its bright white sails in the moonlight. Its topgallants were set, and its studdingsails reached outward like wings. As the
Frolic
turned her stern to the frigate, colors erupted in the air. Someone from the frigate was communicating with the
Frolic
in the arcane language of pyrotechnics.

“What do you suppose they’re saying?” Isolda asked.

“I have no idea,” said Chari. “But I don’t think a pirate ship would have its lights on. Maybe it’s a Kjallan warship asking for information, seeing if the
Frolic
has a right to be in the strait.”

“Perhaps.” But since the
Frolic
had doused its lights to flee, it clearly saw the new ship as a threat, which meant caution was warranted. Colored lights erupted over the sea, first in one place and then in another. They seemed almost random, and Isolda feared that, purely by chance, they might illuminate the jollyboat. The frigate was searching the darkness for the fleeing
Frolic
. Why? A wild hope sent her heart racing. Could it be that Marius knew the
Frolic
was the ship that had taken her? Could he have petitioned the emperor and come for her by sea?

As Chari raised her arms to pull at the oars, Isolda stopped her. “Be silent a moment. I want to watch.”

Finally a set of pyrotechnic lights found not open ocean, but the stern of a ship. The pyrotechnic lights stayed where they were, popping and scintillating in the sky, illuminating the
Frolic
.

Then the first cannonballs were fired.

Chapter 34

“I don’t understand!” cried Marius, leaning over the railing for a better look at the fleeing
Frolic
. “Why are they running away?”

“I don’t know,” said Vitala. “They didn’t answer our signal.”

“Three gods, what did we say?”

“Nothing that should have frightened them this much,” said Vitala. “We ordered them to heave-to. We said a woman had been kidnapped from Kjall and we needed to see if she was on board.”

“Is Isolda so important to them that they’d risk the lives of everyone on the ship?” She was important to Marius, of course, because he loved her. And she was important to Jauld, who wanted her to run his store. But the captain of the
Frolic
should have no great interest in her, unless he was a personal friend of Jauld’s. At the first sighting of the
Frolic
in the strait, the frigate had cleared for action, crowding sail and beating to quarters. The sailors were ready to fight, but the
Frolic
wanted no part of it. She’d doused her lights and tried to run, and the
Sweep
’s pyrotechnic mage had found her.

“It doesn’t make a lot of sense,” said Vitala. “I think there’s something else going on.”

Emperor Lucien headed toward them on the rail, his wooden leg thumping against the ship’s deck. “Our warning volley didn’t stop them, so the triarchus is going to get serious.”

“He can’t shoot at them,” said Marius. “Isolda’s on board.”

Lucien laid a hand on his shoulder. “It must be risked. Do you not see? There is no other way to stop the ship.”

“But Isolda might be killed!” The ship lurched, and Marius grabbed for the railing.

“Here we go,” said Lucien. “Never you worry. Isolda is probably imprisoned in the hold. We won’t be firing at the hull at all, only at masts and sails. The intent is to cripple the ship, not to sink it.”

The
Sweep
was turning side-on to the Frolic, bringing its broadside to bear. Marius stared at the merchantman, which looked small and frail in comparison. “Cannonballs don’t always go where you point them.”

“We either do this, or we let the ship take her to Sardos,” said Lucien.

Marius closed his mouth. They couldn’t let the ship go. Still, he felt helpless to protect Isolda. In desperation, he uttered the Vagabond’s Prayer:
Great One, pass her by
.

Someone below them called, “Fire on the upward roll.”

Marius tightened his grip on the railing.

The cannon fire began at the stern of the ship, proceeding toward the prow where Marius stood. A rolling boom like thunder rocked the warship onto its haunches. Clouds of black smoke and the stink of brimstone rose from below.

Staring through the smoke, Marius saw that one of the
Frolic
’s two masts had come down. The gunners below them were cheering their success.

“Perfect,” said Lucien. “She’s crippled now.”

All was quiet on the
Soldier’s Sweep
as the gunners sponged their cannons and reloaded. On the
Frolic
, Marius saw desperate activity as sailors climbed aloft on the rat-lines, cutting the wreckage free with axes. The
Frolic
, out of control, swung its stern toward the
Sweep
.

“They’ve lost a mast. Why don’t they surrender?” asked Marius.

“I don’t know,” said Lucien.

“Fire at will,” called a centurion below.

This time there was no rolling broadside, but each cannon fired as it became ready, raking the
Frolic
’s stern. Marius’s stomach clenched. How much abuse could the merchantman take? Isolda could be bleeding to death right now, and he couldn’t get to her.

“Grape,” called the centurion.

Marius shot the emperor a frightened look. What did that mean?

“They’re switching to grapeshot,” said Lucien. “It won’t damage the hull or the spars, but it’s deadly to the men.”

“The men?” cried Marius. Then it would be deadly to Isolda.

“It will prevent casualties when we board,” said Lucien.

The
Soldier’s Sweep
wheeled ponderously—they were changing direction again.

“
You’re
not boarding,” Drusus said to Marius. “You’re staying here.”

“Of course I’m boarding,” said Marius, his eyes on the
Frolic
. “Isolda could be dying over there.”

Drusus sighed.

The
Frolic
limped northward and the
Sweep
, which had ceased fire with its great guns, gave chase. As it caught up, it bore wide and moved alongside. Meanwhile, sailors with soot-stained faces gathered at the
Sweep
’s prow. A bosun handed out knives and muskets.

“We need to get out of their way,” said Lucien.

Marius headed amidships with the emperor, the empress, and their team of Legaciatti. Someone yelled a command, and a horde of sailors who weren’t among the boarding party swarmed into the tops. The
Soldier’s Sweep
wheeled around and pointed its prow directly at the
Frolic
.

“Three gods, are we going to ram them?” cried Marius. It was clear that they were, so he grabbed the railing. The uninjured sailors on the
Frolic
yelled and gave way as the
Sweep
’s bowsprit drove toward the
Frolic
’s starboard side. More commands from the bosun, and the
Sweep
spilled its wind and slowed.

The two ships collided. Marius was flung forward. His knees buckled, and he caught himself on the railing. Dragging himself back up, he saw that the
Sweep
’s bowsprit hung above the Frolic’s deck, and the boarding party was jumping down onto the merchant ship in groups of two and three.

“Let’s go,” he called to Drusus, running forward to join them.

When Marius reached the bowsprit, he found himself largely alone, as the boarding party was already below on the enemy ship, carving their way through the defenders. He climbed out onto the long spar and hesitated. It was a six-foot drop down to the
Frolic
. But the sailors had managed it.

Kneeling on the bowsprit, he grabbed a rope and let his feet dangle off the edge. Then he let go of the rope and dropped onto the merchantman’s deck.

Drusus landed beside him. “Vagabond’s Breath.” He drew his sword. “Where to?”

Marius sized up his surroundings. Resistance was thin. The grapeshot must have done its ugly work, because the boarding party had cleared most of the deck already. Near the stern, he saw a group of Sardossian sailors lying face down with their hands behind their heads.

“The deck is ours,” said Drusus. “If we wait a few minutes, our men will have the hold as well.”

“Let’s go down now.”

Marius found a trapdoor in the floor. Drusus insisted on going down ahead of him. As Marius scurried down the ladder, he heard shouts and banging, as well as an occasional gunshot. The fighting was still in progress.

The merchantman below decks was a maze of narrow passageways. Marius picked a passageway at random and ran along it, checking all the doors.

In one room, he found a sailor who instantly surrendered. Marius left him where he was. In another room, he found a dead body, male. Nobody else in this passageway, so he darted into another.

As he was checking the first door, a Sardossian pelted down the corridor toward him, knife in hand. Drusus ran to engage him. A few quick slashes, and the Sardossian sailor was on the floor, bleeding and crying out for mercy.

Drusus took the man’s knife and frisked him. Finding nothing, he abandoned him, and they continued their search.

By the time they’d checked all the rooms on the second corridor, the sounds of fighting had stopped. “I think it’s over,” said Marius.

“Think so, too,” said Drusus, panting.

A Kjallan in the uniform of a principal, one of the ship’s junior officers, spotted them and came running up. “Marius—sir—we’ve searched the whole ship, and we did not find the woman Isolda. Or any woman at all.”

“What?” cried Marius. “But she’s here! She has to be.”

“One of the Sardossians told us she was on board, but she and another woman stole the jollyboat a while ago and escaped.”

“Isolda stole the
jollyboat
?” Marius blinked. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He could readily imagine her doing something like that. But who was the other woman? And where was Isolda now?

“We found something else,” said the officer. “May I show you?”

“All right.” Where would Isolda have gone in the jollyboat? Toward land, surely. They were in the Neruna Strait, so if she was uninjured, she should be capable of rowing to shore.

Summoning a ball of magelight, the officer led them down a dark stairway into the ship’s storage hold. As Marius’s boots hit the ground, a rat squeaked and scurried away.

“See these crates?” asked the principal, sending his magelight ball to illuminate them.

Marius looked around. The hold was packed from stem to stern with them.

“They say they hold wine, but they don’t,” said the principal. The nearest crate had been opened. The man reached into it and pulled out a bottle. “Be careful—don’t strike a spark.” He knocked the bottle against the wooden crate, and its glass top broke off. Black powder spilled out.

“Three gods,” said Drusus.

“What is it?” said Marius.

“Gunpowder,” said the principal. “Thank the Sage we didn’t fire at the hull.”

“Glaucus,” called a sailor from above.

The principal turned to the ladder. “Yes?”

“Is Marius with you?”

“Yes.”

“Tell him we’re being hailed by two women in a jollyboat, and might one of them be the woman he’s looking for?”

Marius scurried up the ladder.

Chapter 35

As Isolda reached the end of the rope ladder and scrambled over the ship’s railing, the first person she saw was Marius. He held out his hand to receive her. Emotion surged, and she felt her heart might burst. Trembling, she took his hand. He pulled her close and hugged her so hard he lifted her off her feet.

“How did you find me?” she asked.

“Rory came to the villa and told us what happened with Jauld,” said Marius. “And then we had some help from Caz and Vora.”

She raised her head. “You know Caz and Vora?”

“I do now.”

Kjallans crammed the deck of the
Frolic.
They’d taken control of the ship from the Sardossians. Marius took her hand and led her away from the crowd. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you back. I was afraid I’d never see you again.”

Isolda’s throat swelled, and she could hardly speak. For the past several hours, she’d had to be brave so she could focus on the problem at hand. But now the ordeal was over.

Marius wrapped his arm around her shoulders like a blanket. “You’re safe now. We needn’t worry any longer.”

“Where’s Rory?”

“On the
Sweep
—the other ship,” he added, when she furrowed her brow.

She glanced at the frigate which loomed nearby, hove-to. Her son was near. Soon her small family would be reunited. And they
were
a family, no matter what Marius’s powerful cousin thought. She’d been a fool to walk away from the marriage proposal. Marius didn’t seem to worry overmuch about the emperor, so she’d swallow her fears and brave the man’s dislike. She would convince him somehow that she and Marius were right for each other.

She’d overcomplicated things, worrying about family, class, her nationality. But tonight she had fought for her life and for the people she loved. Primal acts had a way of stripping away everything that didn’t matter. What mattered? That she loved Marius, and Marius loved her. Their love had substance; everything else was but a detail. Issues such as class and citizenship could not be simply ignored; she and Marius would have to deal with them. But deal with them they would, because they loved each other.

“It was Jauld who abducted me,” she told Marius. “He wanted to take me back to Sardos.”

Marius stroked her hair. “Well, he didn’t succeed. How did you manage to steal the jollyboat?”

“Luck, mostly. Our plan was to row to shore and walk back to Riat.”