Jalia Prevails (Book 5) (20 page)

Later, once the others left the table, Hala whispered in Jalia’s ear.

“Were you injured last night? I noticed how carefully you sat down.”

“I had hoped it was not that obvious.”

“Only to me. I have been doing it a lot recently.”

“My reason is much the same as yours. Daniel was angry with me last night,” Jalia admitted. “It was his right to punish me as I broke our rules.”

“But you are adults?” Hala asked; puzzled that her hero would allow such a thing to be done to her.

“Daniel and Cara killed three men last night to save me,” Jalia explained. “And I nearly died; simply because I was too arrogant to tell Daniel what I was about to do. Adults have to take responsibility for their actions and pay for the consequences.”

Next morning Daniel went off with Don while Jalia went with Cara. Don was determined to show him parts of the boat that he thought Daniel would be interested in. He led him down into the dark twisting corridors of the inside of the boat, seemingly having no trouble in keeping track of where he was. He took Daniel into the massive engine room. Gleaming copper pipes varying in thickness from half an inch to well over two feet across were laid in all directions, spreading out from the core of the engine.

Jerin Malder and two other men were throwing logs into the firebox. Beyond the boiler mighty pistons moved in and out, turning a crankshaft made of burnished iron. The engine made a considerable noise close up and Don had to shout to make himself heard above it.

“That thing is called a crankshaft and it turns a device called a propeller on the outside of the ship,” Don explained at the top of his voice. The two stood looking at the engine from a walkway positioned twelve feet above the level that Jerin and the other men were working.

If there is a hole in the ship to let that shaft go through, why doesn’t water get in?” Daniel asked.

“Some does get in when the propeller is spinning, so there is pump to push it back out.”

“I can’t believe that something as complicated as this could last for a thousand years,” Daniel shouted in disbelief. “Surely parts must break or wear out?”

Don pulled out his knife and passed it to Daniel. “Try and make a scratch in the copper!” he shouted.

Daniel knew well how soft copper was when compared to the steel of the blade and wondered what Don was asking him to prove. He took Don’s knife and ran its blade across one of the smaller copper pipes. When he looked to see the effect, there wasn’t even a light scratch to be seen. Daniel tried to make a nick in the pipe with the point of the knife. He pressed the knife hard into the pipe and then looked again; there was not a mark on the copper.

“Jerin tells me that over the centuries these boats have been rammed into rocks at full speed, turned over by tempests, attacked and set on fire by raiders and even deliberately sunk by letting water into the holds,” Don said excitedly. “In every case, once they were raised and cleaned they were found to be in perfect working order. Only the woodwork and the unimportant fittings can be damaged and they need regular replacement.”

“They didn’t call those people the Magician Kings for nothing,” Daniel said in admiration.

“Do you want to hear something even stranger?”

Daniel nodded, as Don was obviously eager to tell him something.

“Since we left Boathaven, the Steam Dragon has been working better than ever,” Don shouted.

“What do you mean?”

“According to Jerin, since we left Boathaven, they have needed less wood than usual and the engine has been much quieter. He tells me that crew on other parts of the boat have reported similar things with the equipment. Isn’t that weird?”

Cara and Jalia found an area on deck where they could practice sword fighting. Hala and Nin sat watching them. Jalia’s style with a sword was cool and cheeky. She was likely to attempt something impossible or ridiculous and then somehow make it work. Cara, on the other hand, fought with intelligent ferocity, but Jalia disarmed her twice without even appearing to try.

“Show me how you did that,” Cara demanded as she ran to pick up her sword before it slid from the deck into the river.

“That is a move taught to me by my sword-master in Bagdor. He in turn was taught it by David al’Degar, Daniel’s father, who was by far the greatest swordsman who ever lived,” Jalia explained. “The move is called the ‘Twisting Snake’ and you have to be very good to even attempt it, because if you get it wrong, your own sword is likely to go flying.”

“Which tells me what it was, but not how it is done,” Cara complained. “I want to be able to do it too.”

Jalia put her sword down and turned Cara around so Jalia was behind her and able to direct her arms and hands. Hala watched in fascination as Jalia moved Cara’s arm through a series of complex motions, explaining to her what was she was trying to do. After half an hour of explanation and example, Jalia and Cara faced off again. Cara tried the move she had been taught. Again, her own sword clattered across the deck and Jalia grinned.

“Which is why you have to get it exactly right,” Jalia explained as Cara rushed to pick up her sword once again.

“One more time,” Cara told Jalia with quiet determination. The women locked swords and fought once more. It seemed to Hala that Cara tried three times to remove Jalia’s sword and each time Jalia managed to block the move. At least those times Cara managed to keep hold of her sword.

On Cara’s forth attempt Jalia’s sword twisted out of her grasp. Cara’s sword was still in motion driving Jalia’s sword across the deck as Jalia pulled one of her knives and in a lightning dash ended up holding it against Cara’s throat.

“I get the idea, Jalia,” Cara said as Jalia grinned and slipped her knife back into its sheath. “Don’t forget that even an apparently disarmed enemy is still dangerous.”

“I think what I was trying to show you was, don’t get overconfident,” Jalia said laughing. “You use a sword very well, Cara Marin.”

“I know when I have encountered someone better,” Cara admitted.

“When you fight someone better than you, you have to fight sneakier to make up the difference. There is always someone better around the next bend, for all of us, so practicing sneaky is always good.”

Sila Klint approached Jak Venjer quietly from behind. He stood against a rail watching the Jalon speed beneath the Dragon. When she was ten feet away she saw his body stiffen beneath his cloak. Only someone well versed in such things would have noticed his almost imperceptible movement. Sila knew Jak was aware of her presence and ready to act should she turn out to be a threat.

“Good day to you,” Sila said cheerfully and watched as the tension left his body.

“Good day to you, Lady Klint,” Jak replied, still watching the river. Sila moved next to him, holding onto the rail.

“Does everyone on the Dragon know who I am?”

“Only those standing close enough to hear your rant at Prince Dor.”

“I do not recall you standing anywhere near when that happened.”

“I have always been good at remaining unnoticed,” Jak replied coolly.

“I would not have thought that was a particularly useful skill for a healer.”

“I have not always been a healer.”

Jak paused for a few moments before asking a question in return. “The Mine Owners were always meddling in other people’s affairs. Are you about to meddle in those of Slarn?”

“I am a Mine Owner no longer. The mines were played out a year ago, if the truth is to be told. Should I care about where Tonas Mallow’s swords end up?”

“You are well informed, my lady. The swords may become the decisive factor in who becomes Slarn’s next king.”

“Your civil war in Slarn is nothing but talk,” Sila said and laughed. “Wars where nobody dies are hardly wars at all.”

“The situation has worsened recently. Perhaps you noticed the refugees onboard the Flying Kite?”

“Refugees carrying their gold and finery, and bringing their household servants with them too, I’ll be bound. That is more in the nature of a vacation than an evacuation.”

“True war is coming to Slarn soon, Lady Klint. Whose side will you be on when it arrives?” Jak asked as he continued to stare into the river.

“My own side, of course,” Sila said as she moved back from the rail. “And that is usually the winning one.”

 
“I thought you might be interested in this,” Dan said as he pointed at an etched metal plate attached to a bulkhead near the back of the boat.

“What is it?” Daniel asked as he bent down for a closer look.

“According to Jerin, it is the maker’s dedication mark for the boat. He told me that there are similar plates on the other boats.”

The plate was etched with writing in a language that Daniel was not familiar with, or rather a language he only knew in its modern form. Odd words stuck out as familiar along with those that were not. His eye was drawn to three circular symbols etched beyond the writing.

One of them only he and Jalia would be likely to recognize, it was the same as the diamond on the Great Seal of Slarn, the second showed the scene he had seen on the Five Gem Coin, a palace raised over a dividing river by stone arches. Then he noticed that five small circles had been carved into the second circle at equidistant point around it. The second circle was actually a depiction of the Coin and not of the palace shown within it. The third circle contained a crown.

“This is very strange,” Daniel said cautiously, “What do you make of it, Don?”

“I have been taught in the writing of the ancients,” Don said. “The last symbol is that of the King of Slarn but I don’t know what the other symbols mean. However, I can tell you what the writing says. It says, ‘The Steam Dragon is dedicated to the service of the Kings of Slarn, three always, indivisible by duty and by power.’“

“And what do you think that means?” Daniel asked.

“I don’t know. But it is interesting isn’t it?”

Tib Prentice was a worried man. It was the evening of the second day after the Coin had been stolen and the populace were showing signs of getting nasty. A meeting of the townsfolk was taking place that evening and they had been gathering in increasing numbers at the front of the palace throughout the day.

Captain Gregor strode into the room and saluted before him. “Keeper Tib the Twenty Second, the people of Wegnar await your presence,” Gregor said formally as though he was inviting Tib to a ball.

“Have the Council of Advisors finished their meeting?” Tib asked. The council consisted of the great and the good of the town. The fact that they had all played cards with him in the weeks before Jalia revealed him a cheat did not bode well.

“I believe that they have, my lord,” Gregor said carefully. He knew rather more than he planned to tell and he wanted to keep it that way. “I believe that the Lady Jalka has also spoken to them on your behalf.”

“Thank all the Gods and Fairie for that,” Tib said and sighed with relief. His wife held considerable sway with the council because of her family connections, but he was not sure she would be willing to speak in his support. Their marriage must be more important to her than he thought.

“If the Keeper would care to come to the balcony?” Captain Gregor invited. Tib stood up reluctantly and walked in front of the Captain. He was unaware of Captain Gregor drawing his sword.

When Tib walked onto the large open balcony, he was greeted with a roar of anger from the crowd. Thousands of citizens waved their fists angrily. Already out on the balcony were Mik Dalon, Kend Saltar, Trel Giffor and Jalka. Kend waved the populace to silence and spoke in a voice that carried to the back of the crowd.

“I have been asked to speak to you on behalf of the council,” he said to a roar of approval. “As you all know, the Five Gem Coin was stolen two nights ago by the adventurer Jalia al’Dare and her companion Daniel al’Degar. They were assisted in their terrible crime by another woman.”

“What you may not know,” Kend continued. “Is that Jalia al’Dare had no interest in stealing the Coin except as a means to punish our Keeper for cheating at cards. She told me herself that a coin that shone magically was only marginally valuable, and I for one, believe she told me the truth.”

The crowd murmured discontentedly. If the most important thing in your town was to be stolen, then it was of some comfort that it had been stolen by someone famous. The fact that she was barely interested in the Coin itself however, did not go down so well.