Inda (60 page)

“Here we are,” Tau said, pointing.

The Lark Ascendant was built on a hillside, commanding a truly spectacular view of not just the harbor, but the rest of the island lying northward. Inda stared out at the tangle of silvery branches, the rocky hillside, and wished with violent suddenness he could run off and go exploring, despite the crunch of frost underfoot and the cold searing his throat.

But he followed Tau inside, where they were soon settled in a first floor room at the back that looked out onto a pretty little tiled court. The four of them had to share a room, of course: all of them except Tau were still passing as underage.

Inda watched Jeje stowing her stuff and pondered, for the first time in months, the mysteries of sex. He knew Tau had at least a year ago, if not longer, crossed over that strange bridge. He, Dasta, and Jeje hadn’t—though sometimes he wondered about Jeje, despite her preference for dressing like a rat in shapeless long smocks and old trousers. There’d been something different about her since late summer.

“Inda! Come on!” A meal was waiting, they were starved.

After that, they all fell into bed. When morning came they had just decided to explore the main causeway—called the King’s Saunter—when Kodl arrived.

“Time to talk,” he said.

Tau cast Inda an inquiring look. Inda remembered that sense of conspiracy—Niz and Scalis talking with Kodl, all while glancing his way—but he said nothing as Kodl led them downhill to a low, rambling, but clean inn at the very end of one of the quieter streets that catered mostly to mates and captains of the smaller craft, where he, Niz, Scalis, Dun, and some of the forecastle and topmen had taken rooms.

Chapter Seventeen

T
HE room Kodl led them to contained an old, battered plank table. The single window looked out over a narrow alley down which carts creaked and sailors on short liberty were already weaving along, drunk and singing merrily.

Around the table sat all Scalis’ favored forecastlemen except one, Dun, Niz, three of Niz’s topmen, and the mids Zimd, Testhy, Yan, Jeje, Tau, Dasta, and Inda.

“Now, here’s what us think,” Niz said.

Scalis took over. “Way I see things is, no smart ship wants us merch hands when we aren’t trained for speed sail, and most of us are Iascan. So we offer something else, see, something they need so much they don’t ask where we’re from.”

Another general nod, and Niz said, “Defense.”

Everyone looked at Inda. He slouched on his bench, staring down at his hands.
I’m a killer,
he thought, wincing.
They all think of me as a killer. Because I am one.

Of those watching him, only Dun, Tau, and Jeje recognized the pain in Inda’s lowered gaze, the white line of his lips.

“We’ll become marines?” Tau asked, arms crossed. Drawing attention his way.
“Us?”

One of the forecastlemen cackled, to be thumped on the arm by his mate. “Shaddup. It’s Scalis’ idea.”

“Oh. Right.” The forecastleman hastily sobered his face.

Tau went on as if no one had spoken, “Who will hire us? The only ships I see that carry marines are kingdom warships carrying their own people. Merches sometimes, when they are carrying very expensive cargos, but will they take on Iascans instead of their customary armed companies-for-hire?” He shook his head.

“We offer ourselves to the independents,” Kodl said. “The ones that can’t afford the price of those companies of marines-for-hire. Begin with privateers in the Freedom alliance, the ones that sell cargos taken off their enemies, or smuggle past customs cruisers. No one looking deliberately for trouble, in other words.”

Scalis rubbed his hands. “But if trouble comes, we got to be ready for it.”

Kodl gave a nod of agreement. “In these waters, there’s a need. Piracy’s got worse ever since Khanerenth turned to civil war. We spent the night talking to people.” He indicated Scalis, Niz, Dun, and himself. “We all heard pretty much the same thing.”

Scalis leaned forward. “Fact is, there’s no protection on these eastern seas. Sartor mostly trades west. Sarendan same. Some of them trade up the coast, but not enough to rate notice by their kings. Geranda is Venn held, so they ignore the islands and face north. Colend is land bound and never thinks of the sea at all, and the Chwahir fight everyone else, so what other big kingdom is there to patrol here in the east?”

“Khanerenth used to,” Kodl said. “Until they got so busy fighting themselves. Half their old fleet is right here, as privateers—three people told us the harbormaster used to be the Admiral of the Royal Fleet. So everyone else out there, if they see something slower, weaker, they turn pirate. And who’s to fight ’em?”

Scalis smacked his scrawny chest, snuffling a breathy laugh. “Us!”

“How do we turn into marines, then?” Tau asked.

Niz spoke. “There’s two things, ship chase, and then the fight. Us learns the fighting skills.” Then he turned Inda’s way. “Yes?”

Skills. Inda looked up, feeling for the very first time the urge to tell them where he got those skills, that he was supposed to be a Randael, protecting his home, and not just a killer.

But Leugre would have killed him . . . and become a pirate.

Memory brought Tanrid’s voice, the single time they were in Daggers Drawn.
I just hope if you defend Tenthen without me you won’t show pirates any mercy.

He would have fought pirates at home, if they had come again. They wanted him to fight pirates here. Niz called it skill. That wasn’t being a killer, was it? He was supposed to do it at home, so why not here?

He pressed his palms over his eyes briefly.
I lost my home. My name. The ship Captain Sindan put me on. All I have left of home is the promise I made . . .

So he would hold onto the promise. And maybe, just maybe, if he held onto honor—whatever that was—he would somehow be able to go home again.

But first, it seemed, he had to fight pirates.

He dropped his hands and looked up at the waiting faces. “I only saw my first pirates, same as you, when the Pim ships got taken.”

“But you watched,” Kodl said in an encouraging voice. “What did you observe?”

Inda shrugged again, feeling awkward. “Couldn’t see so much, as it was always dark when they attacked. But they seem to go in threes. Come up on either side, grapple to, board.”

Niz poked his nose forward in his Delf manner of agreement. “What I heard, it’s all that way. So you need speed. It’s like this. Merch sailors, us trains while doin’. Practice bending sail on land, no one does it. Fighting, it’s nothing you can practice for. See you? They come up fast, tie on, everyone attacks everyone, so how you drill that, except for sittin’ in the crosstrees and sendin’ fire arrows into their sail? Merches don’t know fighting. Our convoy, watched you them? Us has someone trains us better, hire as hands on a big, independent merch. With something to lose. If pirates comin’ hull-up, us fights. You trains us, Inda Elgar.”

“In staff and archery and sword, maybe.” Inda thought ahead, trying to find weaknesses. “But ship maneuvers? I don’t know any more than you do about ship warfare.”

Niz snorted. “What us needs to know is speed. Get away. If no getaway, they comes, we fight.”

Just like what happened to the Pim ships.

“We’ve been training all along,” Tau murmured.

“Yes, but not for—” Inda shook his head. They weren’t going to attack anyone. Marines were there for defense.

He’d already figured out that defense of the Pim ship was akin to land warfare on an island. You couldn’t get off. Just the same as being driven against a lake or river or ocean at home.

Land warfare to Inda had meant dragoons. Master Gand had told them that they’d learn dragoon skills first, the dragoons being the ones who charged, dismounted, then fought close in, on foot. Cavalry was war on horseback, dragoon was the toughest fighting, because it was both horse and foot.

So he’d begun the training with dragoon skills, though they hadn’t known what it was called. He would continue with what he knew, and though it wasn’t what the older boys had gotten, maybe they could get fast enough and strong enough to make it work. That meant it needed to be all day. Like the academy.

“I think . . .” he began, again feeling that urge to tell them about dragoons. But that would lead to questions, and more questions, and then he’d break his word.

Dun held his breath, gaze switching from the waiting sailors to Inda, whose young face was so expressive of his inward struggle. He wondered bleakly if Inda would still keep his secrets after all this time, and what it would mean for them both if he talked.

But then Inda looked up, as brisk as when he conducted drill. “What about pirates? I mean, do they all fight alike? Do they have a different style?”

Kodl said, “Most pirates, we were told last night, fight much like the privateers who go after warships. That is, they abide by certain rules once they take a ship. They board, but if you surrender, they stop killing. Set the crew adrift, take the cargo. Some take cargo and ships.”

“Privateers attack only the enemy of a kingdom, and pirates attack anything weaker, is that it?” Inda asked.

“Yes,” Kodl said, and Niz bobbed his head several times, his Delf nose poking forward. “Then there is the Brotherhood of Blood. They are the worst of all pirates,” Kodl added.

Scalis made a spitting motion over his shoulder. “Brotherhood is Norsunder on water, what we called ’em at home. Some think that life a free one. No rules.”

“But it’s a bad life.” Niz made a curious warding gesture, hand up, fingers fluttering. “Bad.”

“The Brotherhood,” Kodl said, “kill innocent people and take not just their goods but their ships, or burn them just to watch the fire and listen to the screams.”

Scalis put in, “Some do it just to swagger about with gold earrings, see everyone scuttle out o’ the way.”

Kodl continued. “As for fighting ability, what I was told last night by an old captain is that they haven’t any order, they’re just more savage than anyone. Fighting any of ’em is a skill that seems to be in demand.”

Scalis gave a crack of laughter. “We saw ya, boy, when that filthy soul-eater Leugre came after ya with a sword and a grappling hook. And Black Boots and his mates right after.”

Tau sat back, again drawing attention from Inda, who had flushed and looked down again at his hands. “What about this Ramis everyone talks of?”

Kodl shook his head. “All I know for certain is everyone is afraid of him. He sails the
Knife
, a fast Venn three-mast warship he took. Venn haven’t been able to take it back.”

“The Venn?” Tau asked. “Is he a pirate?”

“Some sez yez, some sez no,” Niz put in, pointing his thumbs in opposite directions.

“The clearest sved we could get is that he seems to attack Brotherhood,” Kodl said. “He was here not long ago, and everyone said we’d have to talk to some fellow named Scubal, but in the next breath they claimed he’s a liar and a coward. He was the sole survivor of Captain Ramis’ last attack on the leader of the eastern arm of the Brotherhood of Blood.”

Scalis snorted. “Why repeat all that shit? Sounded like drunk talk. Or rabbit talk.”

“Excuses or stories, apparently this Scubal talked some strange stuff about this Ramis ripping a hole right in the air, and sending the pirates through into blackness. We heard he rode his ship
out
of blackness to attack,” Kodl retorted.

“What?” Jeje asked. “Norsunder is a
sea
?”

“I never heard that,” Dasta muttered.

Inda said slowly, still looking at his hands, “That first thing, well, you can read it in old records. Norsunder isn’t in the world, but we know it still exists. If they rip a hole from beyond the world and pour in, no one can stand against them.”

Uneasy glances all around.

“But no one has actually seen this night-rip? Other than the drunk, what’s his name?” Zimd asked.

“No,” Kodl said. “From what we heard, anyway.”

“So let’s just forget all that,” Scalis muttered, waving his gnarled hands like he was shooing insects. “Moving on to this here Ramis, either he’s got mages that do things like that, or he don’t, but he’s gone, and so’s this Scubal, and there’s no straight sved, just sailor talk, so let’s get on with our plans.”

They all looked Inda’s way.

Inda flexed his fingers, resisting the urge to touch those blades up his forearms. Sharp and ready.
At home it would have been the Venn, if not pirates. Here it’s going to be pirates. Yes, I can do that.

He looked up and saw Tau watching him, arms crossed, brows raised, and he heard Tau’s voice again,
If you think we are worth keeping alive.

Inda sat up, knowing he’d already decided. It was time to act on it, then. “If I agree, you have to do it my way, or else go your own. Sailors don’t know how to shoot. Not really. Longbows in the tops only make sense when you have a huge ship with lots of room. And while most sailors are strong enough to pull the bows, they have no idea how to aim. You can’t learn to hit a target, shooting maybe twice a year, or even twice a month. So we have to make cavalry bows, and we all have to learn not only to shoot but to make arrows, and I mean good ones—my kind, fletched in a spiral. And then there’s staff and sword work. Knives are a last resort, because that means the enemy is already too close.”

Scalis chuckled. “There’ll be nothin’ like us on east or west waters. Nothin’.”

Dun murmured, “It will take time.”

Kodl frowned. “Then I say we pool our shares of the take, to last us all the longer. If any leave, they get a portion back and fare-thee-well, but the rest of us ought to train as long as the money lasts.”

Again everyone turned Inda’s way. He had no idea how long money would last. “All right,” he said, because they all seemed to expect it.

Kodl sat back. “Good. That’s decided. Make no mistake. We’ll be laughed at, first off. If we get hired, it’ll be with something small and poor. We have to prove ourselves. Niz knows fast sail, which is different altogether from what we’re used to, so he can advise our hiring captains on evasion or attack. And young Elgar here will drill us in defense until we’re good.”