In Search of Spice (56 page)

“Are there many of them in Sung?” Brian spoke into an echoing silence.

“No. Nobody knows how many. When the horse riders came in from the steppes a hundred years ago, fifty came out to help us. Old, young and children. In the last ten years, she is the only one we have seen, that we know about. She appeared for the first time two years ago. In the Emperor’s court. Told him there was too much banditry in the Empire and he must clean it up. Said the people were suffering. Nobody tells the Emperor what to do. She did.”

He looked bleakly at Brian.

“All my life I have feared them. They are the only ones we magicians fear. We think they are the servants of death himself. Now this one appears and talks! She laughs! She is human. She looks like a young girl and which makes her all the more dangerous. It is passing strange. And now I am on board a ship with this changeling, with destiny calling me to train the most powerful novice I have seen. We live in interesting times, Brian.”

“We do indeed. Well, we must make the most of it.”

“Brian, in Sung, this is a curse. May you live in interesting times. People die in interesting times”

Captain Larroche grinned at his coxswain as he climbed into the jolly boat. “A good days trading today, Ben. You’ll have your work cut out tomorrow.”

“That’ll be fine, surr. What’ll we have to do?”

“We’re going to lash the two ships together so we can transfer cargo.”

The cox’n mulled this over.

“Us’n ‘ll check the fenders tonight, surr.”

The Captain smiled as he went up the ladder to the main deck and continued up to the poop. He stopped for a moment, at the sight of Sara sitting cross-legged opposite Takeo, with her eyes closed. Her right arm was outstretched, balancing a ball in the palm of her hand. He raised an eyebrow to Brian, and went up to him.

“Brian, tonight I feel like celebrating. We will have a full dinner in the ward room. Tell the cook. All the officers and the craft masters to attend.”

“Good idea, sir. Are we inviting any of the Sung?”

“No, only our complement. The Sung are doing the same.”

“You are aware we have three more, ah, craft masters, sir?”

“Three? What, the wizard, Sara’s swordsman and... not the little girl with Pat? What’s she a master of?”

“Killing, sir. Yeah, I know. There’s a lot I have found out about her, sir, which I will tell you, but the bottom line is we don’t have to worry about being attacked. I think we should have Hinatea as well, as the leader of the Pahippians.”

“Sara won’t have her in the same room.”

“I don’t think we have to worry about those two any more, sir.”

Pat received the news of the wardroom dinner with some trepidation. He had only attended one since his elevation to the ranks of officers, in which he had received some pointed instructions as to table manners from the First Mate, after which Sara had whispered instructions to him. Somehow he knew she wasn’t going to help him this time, and he dreaded to think what Bai Ju’s table manners were like. He didn’t think Hinatea’s invitation was at all a good idea. She disdained using forks and spoons.

“What this wardroom dinner?” Bai Ju sat cross-legged on the bunk, with Hinatea opposite her. Both girls had their eyes closed and were holding hands.

“All the officers and craft masters will attend and eat together. It is important to have good table manners and we must be dressed in our court uniforms.”

“Ah so. Court manners, neh?”

“Yes, that’s right,” he said, heartened.

“So must make noise like this when eating soup,” she made a dreadful sucking noise. “Belch to show food is good and spit on floor when food arrives.”

She pealed with laughter at the horrified look on his face, and rolled on the bed in a paroxysm of glee, while Hinatea grinned and mimed scratching intimate places. The girls were getting on well.

“Is alright,” she choked through the giggles, “we make fun of you! You so funny sometimes.”

“Well, the trouble is, I don’t know what the manners are supposed to be, so how am I supposed to tell you?” He grumbled. “I am sure to get the blame when you two do something wrong.”

“Poor Patty,” she stopped laughing instantly and started to stroke his hair.

“And don’t call me Patty!” he snapped.

Smiling, she stopped. “What you want me to wear? Sung court dress?”

He looked at her with deep suspicion. “You have it? Is it decent?”

“Of course, I have everything.” She gestured at the wooden chests filling up the tiny cabin. “What you mean, decent?”

“Your bosoms are covered up, and legs not showing,” he said going red again.

“Bosoms? What are bosoms?” she said with a wicked grin.

Hinatea broke in with a smile. “I have my ceremonial dress. It is very beautiful.”

“What is?” Bai Ju wanted to know. “Is pretty?”

“No!” said Pat in horror. “You can’t wear Pahippian clothes to a dinner!”

Hinatea pulled a grass skirt and some shells out from her chest. “See, very pretty. No wear anything else, very good.”

“You are not wearing a couple of leaves,” said Pat firmly. “Ask the Bosun for a proper uniform.”

Both girls spoke at once, proclaiming how beautiful grass skirts were and Bai Ju could borrow one as well.

Pat ignored them, and started getting out his court uniform. He had only worn it once, after he had been given it from ship’s stores, and he started worrying over the creases and a nasty looking stain. Bai Ju was fascinated by it and took it away from him.

“Nasty thing! The cloth is so hard. What this thing for?”

“This is an epaulet, it shows my rank as a junior officer. Come on, give it back. I have to get the wrinkles out of it and clean the stain.”

“How you do?” she asked, ignoring his hand and still studying the uniform.

“I’ll take it to the galley and steam the creases out. Maybe the cook can get rid of the stain. Come on, give it to me.”

She sniffed. “Cook! Ha! Leave to me, I sort. You need new rank now, to show what you become.”

“NO!” he cried in horror, visions of a gaudy monstrosity sitting on each shoulder.

“Yes,” she said with finality. “You go wash, you smell bad. Wipe salt off, not hurt clothes.”

“Please, Bai Ju, this is important. I must do things correctly according to our customs. You cannot know what is right.”

“Ha!” she turned on him in mock outrage, eyes flashing. “You think I stupid whore? I know what you need. I fix. Go!” She pushed him out the door. He bumped into Suzanne in the corridor, who saw him ejected and smiled.

“Hi,” he said, a picture of misery and attempted to get past her. She moved to cut him off.

“And why do you have a face like the world is about to end? I thought all was well in Pat land, with your clever little girl taking charge of you and Hinatea?” Suzanne delighted in Pat’s triad, particularly in the outrage engendered amongst the more conservative in the crew.

“She’s decided she knows more about Harrhein court uniform than I do and she’s getting it ready for me. I hate to think what it is going to look like.”

“She’s probably right,” said Suzanne, “as you know what to wear on a horse but you know absolutely nothing about court. Don’t worry, Pat. She wants to be proud of you, so she will do it. Go on now, and don’t worry.” She watched him disappear, and thought to herself, all the same, it might be an idea to proffer some advice. She knocked on Pat’s door.

Rat was washing when Pat climbed down to the platform, and became the surprised recipient of Pat’s woes. He had never heard Pat say so many words, and with endearing male sensitivity roared with laughter.

“Ah, Pat, thanks mate, I needed a good laugh. Been feeling a bit down! Seriously, mate, you go and buy a beer for any of the married men and ask them about married life and they’ll bend your ear for hours. Get used to it, ‘cos those two have you well under the thumb! When have you got to report back?”

Pat glowered at him. “She didn’t say.”

“Well, come down to the fo’c’sle and have a beer. Tell the Bosun all about it, she’ll put you right.”

“If you so much as hint at this to the Bosun, I swear I’ll kill you!”

“Well, you’d better come along and make sure I don’t! Come on, you’re clean enough and you’ve got no whiskers to shave anyway!”

Over the next hour, with Rat’s help, he worked out what he was going to say to Bai Ju and felt much better. He strode down the corridor to his cabin, when Bai Ju came out of Suzanne’s open door.

“Ah, good, there you are! Come here, quick, quick!” She dragged him into Suzanne’s room which was packed with women. “Now, stand still, don’t move.” And she began to strip his clothes off.

“Hey! Wait! What are you doing?”

“I said don’t move!” Looking around, he saw Sara, Maciu, Hinatea and Suzanne, equally naked, standing upright. Each had two Sung girls chittering away on either side of them, offering up bits of cloth and somehow fixing them around them. Two more girls descended on Pat, helping Bai Ju to take the last of his clothes off and subjecting him to the indignity of being measured.

“What’s going on?” he asked faintly.

Suzanne answered. “Your clever girl told me she wouldn’t be seen dead in the cloth they make the uniforms from, and said she would make them in silk for you. I asked for one too, and she is doing one for Sara as well. We are creating new unifomrs for Maciu and Hinatea. I designed them! Bai Ju sent to the Orchid for some seamstresses and cloth, and they will all be ready in time for supper!”

“We’ve only got an hour!”

“I know! Brilliant isn’t it - look at those girls go!”

Indeed the Sung seamstresses were already trying a uniform on Suzanne and checking it. Even Pat could see it looked better than her previous uniform.

Hinatea grinned at him as her uniform, a long dress, was held up to her. “Look, Pat! Isn’t it pretty. The same colour as the sea after a big storm. Very beautiful. Do I look beautiful?”

She did, and Pat was tongue tied looking at all the girls, while being dressed himself.

“Look at him!” said Sara to Suzanne in Harrheinian. “Doesn’t he look just like a dog being given a bath?”

Both Suzanne and Bai Ju laughed, which Suzanne cut off and stared at Bai Ju.

“You understood what she said?”

“Sure, I speak Harrhein perfectly. It’s Belada I have a bit of a problem with,” Bai Ju smiled. “The reason I came on this trip was to try and find out more about you people, and I learnt the language from some slaves before leaving. Come on, let’s get these uniforms finished.”

“But why didn’t you tell us?”

“I was still finding out about you. No time now, let’s get these uniforms finished and you will want to get your hair done as well. This one is a good with hair, let her do yours.” She indicated one of the seamstresses and diverted attention.

Captain Larroche looked up at the knock on the door. Brian stuck his head in.

“All present and ready for you, Sir.”

“Fine, I’ll be right there.”

Brian led him to the wardroom, and the opening door caused conversation within to come to a halt, and all came to their version of attention. A varied chorus along the lines of “Good Evening, Captain,” came from most of them, though the dwarf smith’s sounded more like a gargle.

“Yes, indeed, thank you all, delighted to see everyone here. Carry on, carry on, what wine do we have today, Sara?”

Sara had been appointed wine officer shortly after she became an officer, a duty she enjoyed immensely.

“I am afraid we have finished the red you liked, sir, but I found another I think you will appreciate. It’s from the same area and has a very similar taste.” She passed him a glass.

“Finished it? Shame - still, better than trading it away! Yes,” he tasted the wine and smacked his lips. “Excellent indeed! Why, I think it is better than the other one. Sara, when we get back to Port, I shall have you select the wines.”

“Thank you sir. Plenty of water to go under the bows, I think.”

“Maybe not so long after all. But come, take your places, Ladies and Gentlemen, and I shall explain. Good God! Pat, what are you wearing and where did you get it?”

“Oh, sorry sir, I knew it was wrong, but thought it would pass.” Pat reddened and desperately tried to straighten his immaculate uniform.

“Pass? It’s fantastic! First time I have seen you looking correct! Can’t be a ship’s uniform, fits you too well. Come here, lad.”

Blushing, Pat went over to the Captain who inspected him, feeling the material.

“Damn me, this is silk! Must be wonderfully cool in this heat! Where in the world did you get it?”

Seeing Pat was his usual self, incapable of speech when the centre of senior attention, Suzanne interjected.

“Sifu Sung Bai Ju was able to help, sir. She brought some seamstresses and silk over and made uniforms for herself and for us. Sara and I helped her with the correct design.”

“Damn good job. Don’t suppose there is any silk left over, is there?” Captain Larroche wondered at the uniforms on display, seriously impressed, both at the cut and the tailoring. “Best damn tailoring I ever saw.”