The Red Wolf Conspiracy (61 page)

“Where thou goest, I follow fast,” she whispered.

Those words
. Where had Thasha heard them before? At first the memory refused to surface. Then she had it: the Mother Prohibitor's emerald ring. The words were inscribed about the emerald. Could Oggosk be a Lorg Sister? Did she have her own cherry tree in the Orchard? Had she prayed before dawn, kneeling on icy stones? Had she sat on Thasha's bench?

Dimly she recalled the Mother Prohibitor's words:
On the path you are doomed to tread one of us at least will be near you. In dire need you may call upon her; she cannot refuse
.

“If you're a friend,” she whispered to Oggosk, “why did you send your cat to steal my necklace?”

Oggosk looked at the silver chain on Thasha's neck, and gave a violent sort of squirm. “Too late for all that, too late,” she muttered.

“What do you mean, too late?”

But Oggosk would no longer meet her eye.

“Such lengths the villains went to!” the governor was saying. “To play with the life of His Supremacy's ambassador, to arrange a marriage across both empires—”

“Without Thasha's wedding there would be no ambassadorship,” said Chadfallow, “and thus no way for Ott and Syrarys to leave Arqual. And that was the only chance they had of a life together. His Supremacy would never let Ott retire. He was too useful to be allowed to fall in love.”

“Whereas I,” said Isiq, “was useful
only
because I fell in love.”

“Then you bring us no peace!” cried the governor's wife. “This marriage was a trick, and we must go on living with Sizzy threats and raids, and fearing a third sea war!”

“Wrong, madame,” said Chadfallow.

Pazel and Thasha looked up at him, startled.

“Sandor Ott twisted events for his own purposes,” Chadfallow continued, “but the wedding of Thasha and Prince Falmurqat is no trick. The Mzithrini want peace, and so does the Emperor.”

“What?” cried Thasha and Pazel together.

“Hush, children—”

“The Emperor doesn't want peace!” Pazel blurted. “He wants the Sizzies fighting themselves! He wants a civil war!”

Chadfallow looked at him calmly. “Don't speak of what you don't understand, Pazel.”

“Well then, how do
you
explain what happened on the Haunted Coast?”

“The two events are unconnected,” said Chadfallow. “Arunis hired the Volpeks to help him raid a treasure-wreck. Had he not kidnapped Tholjassan sons and daughters—and had Thasha not found Hercól and the smugglers in good time—he might have succeeded. But one greedy conjurer hardly matters, weighed against the chance for an era of peace.”

“One greedy conjurer?” said Thasha. “That's what you call Arunis?”

“Oh, Thasha,” said the doctor. “You cannot think that we are speaking of
the
Arunis? That man was hanged forty years ago! This is an upstart who took the sorcerer's name, the better to frighten us with.”

“Like pirates, eh?” said the governor. “There were six Billy Blacktongues.”

“Just so,” said the doctor. “And you see how well the tactic works? Even Thasha believed in him.”

Now the young people were too afraid to shout.

“Hercól?” said Thasha quietly.

The Tholjassan was looking very hard at Chadfallow. “I am not a statesman,” he said.

“But I am,” said Chadfallow. “And I hope that you will trust my judgment as ever, Hercól. This so-called Arunis was a passenger on
Chathrand
, but he had nothing to do with the other criminals aboard.”

“Unless you two have a … special source of information?” said Rose.

Pazel and Thasha looked at each other. They were trapped. To mention the ixchel would be to condemn Diadrelu and her kin to death.

“But they
were
working together,” Thasha pleaded. “This is one big conspiracy!”

Chadfallow shook his head. “Two small ones, merely,” he said. “And we have just dealt with both.”

“You're mad!” shouted Pazel. “The Shaggat Ness is aboard the
Chathrand!”

The adults—all of them except Hercól—laughed. Even Eberzam Isiq managed to chuckle sadly.

Thasha jumped to Pazel's defense. “It's true, Prahba! You're being fooled all over again!”

“This Ormali rat-boy's filled her head with rot,” growled Uskins.

Shouting, Pazel and Thasha looked from face to face.

“There's millions in gold hidden on the ship!”

“We're not going home after Simja, we're crossing the Ruling Sea!”

“Arunis never died! He's the Shaggat's own mage!”

“Governor,” said Isiq, “can you not keep order at your table?”

The governor swallowed, but he clapped his hands. “Children! Hold your tongues or … or depart, yes, depart!”

In the silence that followed, Isiq said, “We will sail tomorrow morning, across the Straits. There we will bow low before Prince Falmurqat and his family, and beg their pardon for this ill-considered engagement, and swear to them we mean no insult by breaking it. Pathkendle, you will stand at my side as translator.”

“Your Excellency!” said Chadfallow. “You cannot believe these claims!”

“About Shaggats and sorcerers risen from the dead? Of course not.”

“Then her marriage must go through!”

“An age of peace cannot begin with a plan stained by treachery,” said Isiq, “nor by the sacrifice of an innocent soul. Don't argue, Doctor! Let the Emperor condemn me if he dares. But from this moment I swear before you all: Thasha Isiq's life is no one's but her own.”

FROM THE SECRET JOURNAL OF
G. STARLING FIFFENGURT, QUARTERMASTER

Friday, 6 Teala
. The most horrible day of my life. Is all the world gone mad? Nay, it has long been so; I just had no eyes to see it.

Fell asleep last night still jotting down all that transpired at the governor's table. Frightening enough, especially the attempt on Lady Oggosk's life, & the outlandish things Pathkendle & Lady Thasha shouted at the end. But those events were nothing.

As Mr. Hercól predicted, the remaining
five
of Ambassador Isiq's “honor guards”—all Ott's men—somehow received a signal from their master, & fled the ship before we returned. We informed the palace, & left it at that. We departed Ormael with the sunrise, making eight knots on an honest easterly.

Not a league out of Ormael port, however, a sloop came up behind us with two red pennants on her foremast: grave tidings. We heeled round, & in minutes the little ship was alongside.

Such awful news: the governor's whole palace struck down with talking fever! Fifty guards, servants, cooks, groundskeepers—& of course the governor, his wife & eight children. All babbling & foaming at the mouth. The palace was sealed tight—no one allowed in, or out. But there was worse. The Lady Syrarys, dead! Out of her mind with fever or remorse at her own evil acts, she hurled herself from her prison tower into the sea. The body is yet to be found: it seems she was in chains, & the iron bore her to the depths. Mistress Thasha & her father are still weeping, even though the woman betrayed them. Love is such a pitiless thing.

But surely the fever threatened
Chathrand
, too? After all, we dined with them night after night. Dr. Chadfallow bellowed questions to the sloop's commander, & soon believed his report: talking fever, without a doubt. Then came the only good news of the day. Turning to us, he said we had nothing to fear. “Talking fever strikes instantly, if it strikes at all,” he said. “We are none of us infected.”

He refused to return to Ormael, but gave strict orders for the treatment of the sick. “Millet and prunes! Nothing else for a fortnight! And send word to me in Simja of their condition!”

Rattled, we took the
Chathrand
on. We did not fall sick: thank the Gods the doctor was right. But I declare this ship is changed since Ormael. For the first time, a report of a fight between the Plapp's Pier & Burnscove Boys. Not a big fight, but as a taste of things to come it could not be worse: in Ether-horde, the two gangs never break a truce without eventually going to war.

The first-class passengers have locked themselves behind the Money Gate, afraid of the fever despite the doctor's words. And the sudden return of the ex-tarboys, Pathkendle & Undrabust, has set tongues wagging on every deck.

It is no secret that they & Lady Thasha had some adventure along the Haunted Coast & that the doctor & Mr. Hercól rescued 'em. This scares the men half to death. A mob of sailors stopped the boys on the pier & emptied their pockets, asking if they had any trinkets from the Coast. Nothing at all, they replied—but Pathkendle said this while pinching the skin of his collarbone & staring off into the distance, like a man missing his sweetheart. Of course, I knew who she must be—the somber little sponge-diver girl, Marila—but it was a weird look all the same & the men were hellish disturbed.

No one searched the rich folk, naturally, & that was how the trouble began. Hercól came aboard this morning with only his sword & a shoulder-bag, but the good doctor arrived with a crate. It was no larger than a pushcart, but it took nine strong stevedores to wrestle it up the gangplank. Was it full of lead? Chadfallow gave no sign. “To my quarters with that!” he ordered, directing them.

But as they set foot on deck, we all heard it: a man's voice, far away, roaring. It seemed to come from the lower timbers of the
Chathrand
itself. It was the voice of a madman—wicked, murderous & joyful at once:

“GIVE IT TO ME! GIVE IT TO ME! GIVE IT TO ME!”

We all froze. All except Pazel Pathkendle, who ran up to Chadfallow & caught his sleeve. “You can hear him! I know you can! Please, Ignus—”

The doctor turned & shoved him so hard the boy fell to the deck. Pathkendle jumped up & turned to us, pointing.

“You
heard him! All of you heard him!”

But had we? The voice was silent now, & the sailors made the sign of the Tree & ran about their business. And Rin forgive me, so did I. Was ever a man given a plainer choice of bravery or skunkish fear? I chose fear, & whatever follows now I shall blame myself.

Later in the morning I crossed paths with the boys again. Pazel Pathkendle had a fresh black eye. “What leprous dog gave you that?” I demanded. “Who's next off this ship?”

They hung their heads. “Rose,” whispered Pathkendle at last. “He said it was my last warning.”

Then my shame grew stronger. I took a deep breath & marched to the captain's door. I knocked. In a heartbeat Rose threw the door open.

“What is it?” cried he. “Danger, Fiffengurt? I heard no cry. Are we beset? Tell me, tell me, blast you!”

When I stammered out that I had come to learn the reason for the beating of one of my tarboys (for the Code bars even a captain from striking a boy in the absence of witnesses), he looked at me as if I were mad.

“Pazel Pathkendle,” he said, “is the most dangerous person on this ship. I shouldn't have smacked him—I should have put a knife in his gut. Look out!”

He flinched, staring wildly past my shoulder. I jumped half out of my skin & turned about: nothing. Rose slammed the door behind me.

I cleared my throat. “I won't stand for this, Captain,” I shouted, not very boldly, though. He made no answer, & I turned & descended the ladderway, down & down, to the afterhold, seeking that mysterious voice. The augrongs were there, half dozing as always, & a fair number of enormous rats. But no strange men. I worked my way forward, searching for anything unusual. I was startled by how well stocked we were—enough grain & hardtack & beef chips to see us home to Etherhorde, with food to spare. Had it all been laid away in Ormael, while I was out looking for the Lady Thasha? I made a point to question Swellows.

So there I was, moving aft, when who should appear before me but that cripple-footed rat! He sat there on his haunches, waiting for me.

“Git, you!” I shouted, looking for something to throw.

And save me, Rin, the beggar answered, “No, Mr. Fiffengurt.”

I nearly dropped the lamp. “You can talk!” I whispered.

Ratty just nodded, like I needn't state the obvious. Which I promptly did again.

“My name is Felthrup Stargraven,” said Ratty. “You rescued me from the bilge-pipe. I am in your debt forever.”

“By the buddin' branch of the blary beautiful Tree!”

“I should love to make conversation,” Ratty tells me. “Nothing more so! But I am fleeing a monster. Will you kindly examine the goods stowed by the mizzenmast step?”

“You can talk!”

“Goodbye, Mr. Fiffengurt. I thank you for your
idrolos
, and for my life.”

He turned & limped off into the darkness. At the edge of my lamplight, he pulled up short & looked back at me. “By the way,” he squeaks,
“everything they told you is true.”

Then he was gone. And a second later Sniraga rushed past my legs. I chased after her—what if I heard 'im plead for mercy in her mouth? But she was gone in the darkness, same as Ratty.

My Annabel likes that word,
idrolos
. The courage to see. I stood there, worried my brain had sprung a leak. Then I made my way to the mizzenmast step.