Temple of the Traveler: Empress of Dreams (39 page)

“Yeah, but now I have a headache. Jolia drinks like a sponge. She weighs a lot more than I do, and she’s used to wine. I’ve really never tried much before. It was wonderful. They had so many flavors. I had to pee twice.”

“Don’t worry, I followed her and kept a close eye on things,” the Dawn creature said smugly.

Even invisible, Tashi managed to grab the panther’s ear and twist. The two wrestled for a time; although his legs were slashed by rear claws, Tashi kept his grip and demanded, “Apologize to the lady!”

Holding her hands to the sides of her throbbing temples, Sarajah said, “Please, he’s trying to make you crazy. Don’t listen to him. What’s the big deal? I’m the one who got ogled and I’m fine.”

Releasing the panther, Tashi sat on the ground. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Everyone gets to see your body but me. It’s not fair.”

Anger flared in her eyes and she stood over him. “Your teacher, the emperor, has half a dozen girls waiting to service him, and he’s waiting until spring. Can’t you wait a couple months for me?”

The panther was no longer laughing; rather, he left to avoid getting caught in the middle of this argument. Pinetto backed into the wheelhouse. “I’m going to check on a chart.”

“I’ve waited months for you already!” he shouted. “First it was wait until after the battle, then after you’re a troll, then after you rub me all over with oil . . .” He stared at her chest, peeking through feathers at eye level. “All right, that part was fun . . . Where was I?”

She gripped the bulge at the front of his new pants. “Just because you get one of these, I’m not worth the wait?”

He groaned. Muddled from the wine, she said, “Hold on. Nothing happened that time.” A slow smile spreading across her face, she ordered, “You need a lesson on who’s in charge. Into the hold.”

Once in the dark cargo area, she experimented as Tashi bit his forearm. “Hmm. Seems I can do anything I want as long as we don’t touch skin to skin.” She gave a throaty chuckle. “Hands behind your head, Mister. The queen of the pirates is holding you up.”

The more agonized noises he made, the more she laughed. He backed into a crate, knocking it off the stack. Oats hissed onto the floor. “I want to kiss you . . . bite you . . . taste you,” he begged.

“Uh-uh-uh,” she teased, breathing heavily near his ear. “These are the rules of the night visit.”

Loosened feathers flew everywhere in the compartment as they explored the limits of their clothing.

****

Hindaloo heard every sound from his makeshift cell in the hold. Straining his shackles so far that they bit into his skin, he could see Sarajah’s every writhing movement. He resolved in that moment to take her for himself, whatever he had to do. At the first opportunity, he meekly begged to see the wizard and provided a blood sample, which tested negative for supernatural influence.

****

After catching up on sleep, the group met to discuss strategy for approaching the Crooked Isle. Sarajah’s cloak had transformed into silk pajamas with sleeves that extended past the end of her hands. Holding hands with Tashi through the fabric, the queen didn’t seem to pay much attention to the proceedings. At one point, Pinetto said, “If they need someone to feed to the wild animals, we’ll draw straws.”

She just nodded, blissfully.

The wizard stared at her. “We’ll post signs about the cat running away when we get there.”

This startled her into alertness.

“Just kidding, but you should say something to the crew. We all had to pretend we didn’t know what the thumping was down below.”

Clearing her throat, she announced to the group, “I proclaim today Corrie Evershade day in my kingdom. All captive vixens shall be freed from their cages, no matter how naughty they’ve been. Baba Nesu, in gratitude for her services to the crown, I would like to procure a large quantity of gossamer for our return trip to Center. Six yards ought to do, and another six for me.”

The old man bowed. “As you wish, majesty. The fabric may be obtained for about a sesterina a yard.”

“I think it’s worth it,” she said, and Tashi nodded fervently. She passed over a gemstone to the businessman. “Make sure to get some information to go with the fabric.”

Pinetto held back a smile. “May I remind you that for this portion of the voyage, you are only high priestess and seeress for the church?”

She sighed. “Then I name her honorary handmaiden and tell everyone the fabric is for . . . modesty veils.”

Lord Conifer coughed into his fist.

“You take exception, sir?” asked the seeress.

“No, highness. I should think Lady Evershade being honored by a former archfiend for her services will speak for itself.”

Sarajah drew herself up. “Despite her flaws, the lady is driven by love, family, and strives for redemption in the face of desperate odds.” She scanned the faces of each of the men. “So are we all.”

Conifer bowed in acknowledgement.

The guards brought out Hindaloo the Despised, and he knelt before the queen, kissing her bare feet. His beard slid between her toes. “Stop. That tickles,” she giggled. “So you’ve decided to join the expedition?”

The green-eyed smuggler said, “This hunt is merely a point on our journey. I intend to join the queen. My fate is entwined with her . . . service.”

“If you run, my panther will track you down,” she threatened.

“I shall not leave your side,” he said kissing her ankle.

Pinetto changed the subject to prevent Tashi from picking a fight. “The zookeeper will be collecting bamboo cages for the sun bears he’s going to track down for us. Any other missions while we’re gathering maps and paying bribes at the exchange?”

Hindaloo said, “We’ll need bearers to carry the gear.”

Conifer said, “My men and I can handle that.”

The smuggler shook his head. “Not unless you want to attract attention. White lords don’t sweat here. They make the arkies do all the work.”

“Who?”

“That’s what they we call the Archanosians. ‘Arkies’ is shorter, just like they are. The important part is that any white man carrying something heavy is watched by the constables.”

Tashi grinned. “See, I told you he’d teach us to be proper criminals.”

Sarajah cocked her head. “I’ve been thinking.” Tashi’s face fell and he grew serious. “The church should start a mission school on the island. Pinetto, do we have an extra copy of the
Book of Dawn
?”

“We have four, madam: three plus the original.”

“Give me a set to leave here, then. We need to educate boys and girls so they can read and copy our fine
Books of the Dawn
. However, we will attempt to encourage independent thinking. When we land, point out what the highborn ladies wear and I’ll adopt their costume before exploring.”

Nesu gestured down and outward. “The dresses are so long and billow so much that they require a servant to follow behind to keep them out of the mud. The more bows on the dress and parasol, the more important the woman.”

She smiled at this. “And gloves, no doubt. In this oppressive heat, they cover themselves in as much fabric as possible.”

“Indeed. Why do you need such a disguise?”

“A widow’s home in need of repair should provide a good base of operations. I can tell within a few minutes if a woman has the necessary acuity and is amenable to our cause.”

“There are several such dwellings in the garden sector,” Nesu said. “The main port is dedicated to housing the garrison and transport business. To the eastern edge of the arc, above the flood zone but below the explosion of rainforest green, is a ribbon of the oldest homes on the island—Worthy Road. Many respected people retire there, some who treat the native servants well. In my day, one or two were freed women whom the locals trust.”

Sarajah nodded. “I’ll find some ladies who can be discreet. If we’re going to have a revolution some day, we need people who can read and add to run the country.”

“It would take at least a decade before enough people could be trained,” said Nesu.

“We are patient,” she replied. “The church of Archanos will be a charity, the source of second chances. I have over thirty years in gems, and I’m willing to dedicate half to this endeavor. Now we plant seeds. After the emperor is saved, we return to water them. When the crop is ripe, we harvest.”

The old black-marketeer stared at her. “You seem sincere.”

“Because I am. I want all the children of my land to have a better life. As soon as feasible, I intend to abolish slavery entirely.”

Baba Nesu jerked back. “This will mean bloodshed.”

She leaned forward. “You’ve felt the shackles and the lash; so have I. Don’t you want to set everyone free? The whole world?”

She could see on his face that he did. She had pierced the old reprobate’s shell at last.

Nesu asked, “Would you have room in this congregation for an old criminal who could proclaim to all that he’d seen the error of his ways and found peace in your organization?”

“Have you?”

“If we can do what you say, I might.”

“Are you just saying this so I let you stay on the Crooked Isle?”

Nesu smiled. “That’s what I’ll tell my underworld contacts, but I was a slave for twenty years. I have children who still are. Anyone who would set them free deserves my allegiance, your highness.”

****

There were three barges loading in the harbor. Two cutters guarded each. The
Mallard
was small enough to dock with the pleasure yachts. The stone fortress on the hill dominated the harbor. A government coracle led them to an appropriate place on the docks and the man on deck shouted, “Have your papers ready.”

Pinetto squeaked to Nesu, “We stole this ship. We don’t have papers!”

Nesu patted his arm. A spark jumped from the wizard to make the businessman’s hair stand on end. “Relax. In war, stealing from the enemy is legal. I had papers drawn up in Center with an official seal.”

“We picked the right man,” Pinetto replied. “I’m going to go meditate. Between the stress and being near three borders, I’m having trouble keeping a lid on all this energy.”

“Four countries. The plague-lands begin over there,” Nesu said, pointing to the horizon.

Pinetto’s hand quivered. “I’m going to boil some tea.”

Nesu met with the soldiers to handle the mooring fees and other “taxes.” After a cursory cargo inspection for contraband weapons, they were issued a dock permit. The inspector objected briefly to the number of metal darts, but Nesu explained, “We’re allowed two weapons per person in these waters without needing a dealer permit or military exemption. We’re within those limits, and none of them violate size restrictions.”

The inspector grumbled, “Each time you dock here, you’ll need another inspection to prevent transportation of plague materials.” He quoted prices for docking, and Nesu paid for a month in advance.

“Why so long?” hissed Sarajah.

“This island is the biggest I know of and centrally located, making it an ideal base. Furthermore, a month’s rent costs the same as two individual weeks plus the bribe for a good spot. Do you think this search will take less than two weeks?” Nesu asked.

“No,” she admitted.

The inspector looked down his nose at Sarajah. “Women are only trouble on a ship.”

“She’s the owner; it’s her expedition.”

The inspector sniffed. “Be warned: in port, there should be no unescorted women. Sailors make assumptions about the profession of such. Also, women should not speak before being spoken to.”

Tashi had to pull Sarajah aside and hold her back while the soldiers moved on to a coracle in the next berth. “It’s cultural, not personal. You can’t kill them all.”

When she glared, he amended, “Fine, you
could
kill them all, but you shouldn’t.”

As they left the pier, Sarajah was overwhelmed with the novel aspects of the new society. The natives were a hazelnut brown, a shade darker than her, with haircuts shaped by a bowl. The bearers who carried her belongings wore only loincloths in the heat.

The natives offered to assist everyone but Pinetto, whom they avoided. Hindaloo seemed to recognize several of the wharf rats and conversed with them in their own language.

****

Servants at the desks inside the port offices wore simple, cotton shirts that may have once been flour sacks. While the others remained outside the small reception area, Pinetto strode up to the counter and addressed the only man in uniform. “May I purchase charts of the islands?”

“For?” the man behind the counter asked, rolling his ‘r.’

“My lady is searching for the legendary sun bears of Ashter Island.”

The official laughed. “This island is a legend.”

Pinetto leaned closer. “That’s fine. I get paid by the week. If it takes a year to find the bear, so much the better.”

“We have a lot of charts. They are very expensive if you want them accurate,” the official said, stroking his chin.

“We’ll start with the ones along the Antarean Rift.”

“That stretches a thousand miles and there are fissures going off in all directions.”

“Then I guess I’ll need to search them all,” Pinetto said with a smile.

“It will take a while to copy all of them. Where should I send them?”

“Um . . . do you know a good inn? Someplace respectable. My lady is highborn.”

The man chuckled. “There are only two: the Drunken Fish and the Crooked Corset Casino.”

“Which would your wife stay in?”

“The top floor of the casino.”

Pinetto noticed that the office had cleared of all workers. “Um . . . why is everyone leaving?”

“The arkies go to tell their families that there is an Imperial on the island.”

“Because?”

“Don’t worry. They haven’t buried one in the sand for the tide to drown in over ten years.”

“When was the last Imperial visitor?”

“About ten years ago.” Seeing Pinetto’s eyes widen, he laughed. “Not to worry. You are safe in the casino, but don’t go out at night. Come to think of it, avoid the arkie areas in daylight as well. They are usually too lazy to bother, but occasionally one of the wild ones from the outer islands will stir up trouble.”