The Thief's Gamble (Einarinn 1) (36 page)

When we returned to Shiv, he was weaving a complex pattern of amber light among the stones. He looked up and cold triumph coloured his smile.

'I've marked their trail. They can't get away from us now.' He looked past me to Ryshad. 'You've got the relics?'

Ryshad nodded as we mounted up.

'Azazir gave you his treasures?' I asked, incredulous. 'How did you manage that?'

'I pointed out that if I were busy studying them and pursuing the Archmage's orders, I'd be unlikely to have time to tell Planir about Azazir's tinkering with the rivers and messing about with the weather up here.'

Shiv's tone was as grim as his face. 'That's before we knew about the dragon of course, I'm not sure I can keep that a secret.'

I shuddered and looked nervously at the lake. 'Let's get a move on, shall we?'

Shiv rode ahead to follow whatever magic he was using and I found myself riding next to Ryshad. I noticed something different about him.

'You're using one of those swords from Azazir?'

He grinned a little uncertainly. 'Shiv said I should. I can't say it feels comfortable having a couple of thousand Crowns' worth of somebody's heirloom strapped to my side.'

That raised my eyebrows; I knew old swords were valuable, but that valuable? I wondered if I could claim a share of its worth, like the ink-horn. Probably not, I decided regretfully.

We soon reached more normal-looking woodland and halted as Shiv raised a hand. 'We're nearly on top of them,' he said quietly. 'I'd better take some precautions.'

The air around us shimmered like sunlight reflecting off a stream.

'Are we invisible?' Aiten asked hesitantly.

Shiv shook his head. 'Not as such, just difficult to see. If we stay at a distance and keep quiet, they shouldn't notice us.'

The day passed slowly as we picked our way after our quarry. Their initial panic-stricken flight slowed after a while but they continued at a steady pace considering the terrain.

'We're heading east, aren't we?' I asked Ryshad, trying to see the sun through the golden autumn leaves of the dense forest.

'At the moment,' he agreed. 'I'd say they're heading for the coast.'

I was beginning to wonder if they were ever going to stop as dusk deepened into night and they kept up their steady march, though both moons were virtually at full dark by now. I saw Shiv signalling us to stop and breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

He dismounted and walked back. 'They're making camp in a little glade just over that rise,' he said softly. 'We'll take turns to watch them, but I don't suppose they're going anywhere.'

Ryshad looked up from hobbling his horse. 'I'll take first watch, if that's all right.'

'I'll join you.' I gave Russet a final pat and we crept towards the ridge.

Ryshad moved through the woodland debris almost as quietly as me and I grinned at him approvingly when I caught his eye. We dropped to hands and knees for the final stretch and lay down to peer over the top of the rise. It was a cool night but dry and still, we weren't uncomfortable.

Our quarry were gathered around a small fire but I frowned as we watched them.

'They're not talking to each other much, are they?' I murmured to Ryshad.

He nodded agreement. 'They seem to be doing everything by drills.'

I soon saw what he meant. Half of the ten survivors ate while the others stood guard, they took turns collecting wood and water, and even stripped off and washed in unison, five by five. It made me shiver to watch them; I'm reckoned to be a bit obsessive about personal cleanliness, but even I'd pass on an open-air wash in this weather.

The squad wrapped themselves in their blankets in unspoken agreement and two sat in silent watch, staring out into the blackness of the forest night while their companions slept. Some instinct or training woke another pair some time later and they took over the guard, all without a word.

'They've lost their officer,' Ryshad said softly after a while. 'No one's giving orders, no one's discussing what they should do. There's no one in charge.'

I bit back a curse. 'We forgot to check the bodies, didn't we?'

The dark shape of Ryshad's shoulders shrugged. 'No time, was there? I reckon the ones throwing that weird magic around are the leaders in this outfit. This mob are just following their training, they haven't got anything else to do.'

'So where does that get us?'

I saw the gleam of his teeth in the dark as he smiled. 'I'll bet they're heading straight back for whoever's in command, or the quickest way home. Want to put a few Crowns on it?'

I shook my head before remembering he probably couldn't see me. 'No wager, Rysh.'

Nothing happened that night apart from the Elietimm getting more sleep than the four of us, which I mentally added to their debt against me. I sat and ate a cold breakfast while I watched them prepare for the next day's march and the others sorted out our gear. It was almost becoming boring, until I reminded myself just what these men had been doing. I wondered how men so lacking in initiative could have made such a calculated ruin of Yeniya; if they had just been following instructions, what kind of man could give those orders? I decided I was glad that we had probably killed him at the lakeside.

That day and the next few passed in similar unremarkable fashion as we trailed the increasingly dispirited squad further and further east. Their pace slowed and their routines became ragged. The trip was no hardship, the weather was cold but sunny and dry, and then we caught the salt scent of the ocean on the breeze and I realised we were nearly at the coast.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Taken from:

D'Oxire's Precepts of Navigation The Ocean Coast

Sailing off the ocean coast is a totally different proposition to navigating the Lescar Gulf or the Aldabreshin Archipelago. Any mariner coming to the ocean must relearn all his seamanship or perish. The weather is much harsher, storm-force winds coming straight in from the deeps. The waves are both bigger and more forceful, which means vessels are narrower, deeper in draught and carry a greater variety of sail and rigging. Galleys cannot be used with any confidence in these waters, since fierce storms can blow up from nowhere. However, given the lack of coastal routes on land and the length of time it takes to move goods via the inland routes, a mariner who learns what he must to survive will make impressive profits quickly. Those who don't bother will drown.

Ocean currents are the major danger to shipping on this coast. Any mariner venturing out of sight of land must be alert for the danger of being earned off his planned route. Obviously, it is relatively easy to tell if you are too far north or south, but this may be of little help. There are relatively few anchorages along the cliffs of the coastline and most of those that exist are limited to fishing vessels. Hiring a pilot with personal knowledge of the coastline, its hazards and landmarks and the points where fresh water can be taken on is essential. Not all harbours are easy to approach, especially with contrary winds, and many have shoals at their entrances. Experienced crews are worth paying for. Former pirates are useful crew members as long as their numbers are limited.

Being carried too far east will almost always prove fatal one way or another. The currents move fast and dead reckoning is of no use in calculating daily rate of travel. Any harbourmaster will be able to list ships lost in any season, where no trace ever returned to land, even in the winter storms. The currents that circulate south of Bremilayne are particularly rapid and can carry a vessel tens of leagues out of its way. If a ship gets favourable winds and escapes such a current, the danger then is that the prevailing winds will drive it rapidly west and wreck it on the ocean coast, especially if landfall is made at night. This happens sufficiently often that most fishing families earn extra coin recovering cargoes washed inshore.

The weather deteriorates fast once south of Zyoutessela and the currents become highly unpredictable. Attempting the passage of the Cape of Winds is for the mad or the desperate, not for serious seamen. Portage of goods across from one side of Zyoutessela to the other is less expensive than losing a ship and cargo. Most traders make portage a condition of any agreement with a mariner. No one reputable will lend money against purchase of a cargo unless portage is written into the contract.

Sholvin Cove, Gidesta

26th of Aft-Autumn

The cries of seabirds came winging over the tree-tops, followed, after a while, by sounds of human activity — the creak and splash of vessels, hammering, snatches of voices swept towards us by the strengthening wind.

'Careful,' Shiv cautioned us as we tethered the horses and moved to the edge of the trees to look down the steep hillside.

'Sorry,' he said as I shot him an irritated look.

We saw the Elietimm heading openly into a village sitting in an irregular inlet cut deep into the rocky coastline by a vigorous river that Azazir would have been proud of. Fishing boats were tied to a jetty of dark grey stone and drying nets fluttered in the breeze, which was now bringing us a powerful mix of weed, fish innards and mud, the usual delightful scents of the seashore.

I frowned as we watched our quarry head straight for a large three-masted vessel tied up at the far end of the quay, some distance from the nearest boat where a handful of grubby locals were heaving baskets offish out of the hold. The crew did not even look up from unloading their catch as the Elietimm passed by in two even-paced ranks, discipline having suddenly reappeared.

'Shiv, are they using magic to hide themselves too?'

'Not that I can tell.'

'But no one's even noticing them, let alone speaking to them. What's going on?'

We watched as the orderly squad marched to the side of the boat and went through what must have been some kind of identification.

'Saedrin, this is peculiar.' I ignored Shiv and Ryshad's objections and slipped carefully down the path, keeping as much cover as possible between me and the boat until I reached the muddle of stone-built cottages around the river where there were enough people to hide me.

None of them had any trouble seeing me; they looked at me as if I were a travelling fair.

'Morning.' A grizzled old gaffer, sunning himself on a bench, eyed me suspiciously.

I tried the bright smile, cute but dim, even if it didn't go with the stained cloak and breeches.

'Can you tell me anything about that boat over there?' I pointed at the three-master.

He looked at me in complete mystification. 'A boat, you say?'

'Yes, that one, the one with the green pennants,' I said slowly, wondering if I'd managed to find the village idiot at the very first attempt.

His eyes narrowed as he peered out to sea, completely ignoring the huge ship right in the centre of his field of view.

'Is it coming in then? My eyes aren't what they used to be.'

'Never mind.' I was about to move away when a woman with hands like leather and a face to match opened the door of the cottage.

'Dad? Who're you talking to?'

She looked as sharp as the gutting knife she was holding so I abandoned any attempts at charm. Women rarely fall for it, at least not from other women.

'Can you tell me if you've seen any strangers round here lately?'

The gleam in her eyes reflected the silver she saw appear smoothly between my fingers. 'Who might they be?'

'Fair, like Mountain Men. Foreign, keeping themselves to themselves.'

She eyed the coin but shook her head after a moment. 'Sorry, I've seen no one like that.'

'How about ships you don't know? Ocean-built, like a Dalasorian.'

'We've seen no one new since a trader sailed up from Inglis for the Solstice.'

Disappointment coloured her tone but there was no doubting her sincerity. I would have believed her absolutely if only I hadn't been able to see the ship with its crew busy doing whatever it is that sailors do.

'How about that boat at the end of the dock, when did they come in?'

She looked rather puzzled as she followed my gaze and her eyes lit upon the fishing boat. 'That's Machil and his brothers. They got back from the fishing grounds just after dawn.'

I pressed a couple of Marks into her slimy palm to distract her from wondering just who I might be and walked briskly back through the village with enough self-assertion to dissuade anyone who might have accosted me.

Ryshad looked none too pleased with me when I got back to the others. 'Well?'

'It's peculiar. No one seems able to see that ship or the men from it,' I said simply.

Ryshad and Aiten looked puzzled but Shiv looked dismayed.

'You're sure? Sorry, stupid question.' He was looking as if his dog had just died.

'Why's that such bad news?'

Shiv rubbed a hand over his tired face. 'One of the magic disciplines in the Old Empire was mental control: they could do this kind of thing. We've never been able to duplicate it in Hadrumal. Do you reckon they know something we don't?'

There was a moment's silence before we all turned to Shiv at the same instant.

'So, what do we do now? Can you tell if they've got Geris in there?'

'How do we get to your mate if they have him here?'

'Can you get him out the same way you got me out of the lock-up?'

'Give me a moment,' Shiv snapped. He closed his eyes and frowned as magelight of several different colours flickered round his head. 'Shit. There's something blocking me, I can't see inside the hull at all.'

I sighed. 'I think that proves a different sort of magic is at work here.'

We stood in a indecisive circle until Aiten looked down into the anchorage and cursed. 'Dast's teeth, they're not wasting any time. They're casting off.'

We watched helplessly as the crewmen loosed the lines to the quay and long oars moved the ship out of the shelter of the inlet.

'Come on,' Shiv snapped. 'We need a boat.'