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Authors: Michael A Stackpole

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likely the one who gave you this chance did not think you would survive the voyage. If you

can, they will have been fooled.”

Iesol nodded slowly, as if unable to believe what he had heard.

“That’s very good of you, Captain.” Jorim smiled easily and gave her a nod.

Her face closed. “Did I give you permission to comment?”

Jorim bowed. “No, Captain.”

“Very good. Remember that, Master Anturasi.” She turned and patted the sternpost.

“The
Stormwolf
is the greatest of the Naleni Wolves. The voyage we will undertake will live forever in the annals of history. Do what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it, and we will make it back to Moriande. Disobey me and the ship
will
get back. You likely will not. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good. Minister Pelmir, please collect your belongings and report below. You will be

shown to your cabin—which you will share with two young apprentice sailors. I doubt

either will be good for much, being yet children, but perhaps you can teach them

something useful like writing and addition.”

“Yes, Captain.” Iesol bowed and kept bowing as he shuffled his way backward out of the

cabin.

Captain Gryst came around from behind her desk, then sat back on it. “Master Anturasi,

you
are
going to be trouble, aren’t you?”

“I will do my best not to be, Captain.”

“I hope so.” She pointed a finger at the deck, and for a moment he thought she was

indicating he should kneel before her, which he just wasn’t going to do. “The device that

was installed in your cabin, I know what it is.”

“How?”

“Fear not. The state secret is safe. Borosan Gryst, its inventor, is my cousin. He told me of

his desire to create such a thing. My uncle installed it here. I know what it will allow you to do, and why the Prince has given you the orders he has.”

Jorim smiled. “I am glad you understand its importance.”

“I do, but I have a problem.” She regarded him openly. “As I said, my word is law on this

ship—even overruling the Prince. I cannot and will not have you obeying him when I need

you obeying me. If you fail to do that, not only could you put the ship in jeopardy, but you

could find yourself in trouble. This crew contains many people who have sailed with me for

years. Defy me, disobey me, and someone might take it into his head to discipline you in a

manner that would show how much respect they have for me.”

“I hadn’t looked at it—right, you didn’t ask for a comment.”

“You’re learning.” She held up a finger. “You would disobey me to obey the Prince, I know

that, so I need to deal with that problem. Therefore, I now issue you an order: without fail

you are to see to all your duties concerning that device.
Without fail,
do you understand me? This standing order will supersede any other order you are issued.”

The cartographer smiled slowly. “I understand you perfectly, Captain.”

“Good.” Her dark eyes hardened. “What I said before I meant. I will remind you once that

you’re not to be a disruptive influence on my crew. After that, I leave you behind. The only

thing you are uniquely qualified to do here is make maps and communicate the

information to your grandfather. I can make maps; I can use the device my cousin made. If

the Prince has to wait to get his maps, I’m sure he won’t mind as long as they arrive and

are accurate.”

“And if you don’t get them back to him, Captain?”

She smiled easily. “It will be because the Eastern Sea has swallowed us whole, Jorim

Anturasi. That’s the only way we won’t be returning. Obey me and you’ll be with us when

we get back.”

Chapter Twenty-six

3rd day, Month of the Dog, Year of the Dog

9th Year of Imperial Prince Cyron’s Court

162nd Year of the Komyr Dynasty

736th year since the Cataclysm

Catfish,
Moriande

Nalenyr

Keles Anturasi stood by the rail on the river vessel
Catfish
as it slid past the
Stormwolf
.

The tall, long ship, with its many masts and swarming crew, mocked the small, flat-

bottomed boat that trios of oarsmen propelled up the river with broad sweeps of long oars.

Further upriver they would pole the ship through shallows, but rowing was the only method

of moving against the current when in the deep channels dredged for ships like

the
Stormwolf
.

The sun had begun to set, so he knew his brother was already on board. He felt a pang of

envy, and another of loss, both of which surprised him. Going on the
Stormwolf
had been something he’d been looking forward to, but he didn’t live for it the way his brother did.

Even when they’d said their farewells at the family tower, Jorim’s anticipation kept

distracting him.

Keles would have preferred to see his brother to the
Stormwolf,
or have Jorim visit

the
Catfish,
but that was not permitted. Keles had been ordered by the Prince to dye his hair Helosundian blond and grow a beard. With three days’ growth it was not much, but

did alter his appearance somewhat. He’d also taken to dressing in robes of coarse

material and had confined much of his conversation to grunts and short sentences.

True to his word, the Prince had found an actor who looked enough like Keles to make

Siatsi pause. Nirati had come to the
Catfish
to see the actor off and had played her tearful part exquisitely. She’d given Keles himself barely more than a glance when he boarded.

Keles tried not to pay too much attention to those who were supposed to be

accompanying him, but the deception fascinated him. He found the actor to be pompous,

playing him like an effete noble. The fake Keles lectured about the river, quoting directly

from the report Keles had written, but he kept putting the emphasis in the wrong places. It

annoyed Keles, but he did admit that everyone was paying attention to the pretender,

while he sank back into the crowd unnoticed.

Keles likewise kept his eyes open for any Desei agents who might be watching, but so far

the only northerner he’d seen was Count Aerynnor, who conducted his sister back to

Anturasikun. Still, just as he was trying not to look Naleni, he knew the Desei would be

trying to look like anything but themselves, so his observations were bound to be fruitless.

His life, he realized as the
Catfish
wiggled its way against the current, had become very complex. Not that it hadn’t been complex before, but that had been
controlled
complexity.

He had been given problems, like the Gold River survey, which had very clear success

and failure parameters. The problem had been manageable and he had managed it very

well.

The problem he now faced was not manageable at all. He could barely even define it. He

was going into the unknown, opposed by unknown forces, aided by unknown forces, with

future-but-unknown work for the Prince in the offing. About the only known quantities were

guesses based on rumors and legends, and those were worthless. The only thing he

could be certain about was that he had enemies who would do him harm if they

discovered his identity.

He glanced down at the deep green water and contemplated throwing himself in, but it

was just a passing thought.
It would make things much easier, but it would also mean I

lose. And I don’t want to lose.

“It is good to meet a kinsman on this boat.”

Keles turned, then looked up. The woman who had spoken had long hair that hung in

blonde ringlets. Her slender, well-formed nose and high cheekbones combined with a

strong jaw and pale blue eyes to make her very pretty, but the vapid expression she wore

did not fit her face. The life burning in her eyes belied it, and the obvious deception put

Keles on guard. In addition, though her simple, oversize robe of brown wool tried to soften

her outline, there was no hiding her broad shoulders.

“Yes. A comfort.”

“I am Tyressa Joden.”

Keles shivered. “I am Kulshar Joden.” He stiffly offered the name the Prince’s ministers

had supplied him, not at all liking that she had used the surname first.

“I know.” She smiled slightly, then glanced out at the water. “Ah, Wentokikun. Do you

suppose that man up there at the window might be the Prince himself? He would watch to

see Keles Anturasi off, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps.” Keles’ mind raced. “Or one of the Keru.”

Her smile broadened a little. “Perhaps. We have the same name. I don’t believe in

coincidences, do you?”

“No, I do not.” He looked around and saw no one nearby. “You are Keru?”

“And entrusted with your safety, yes.” She kept her voice low. “You should continue your

quiet ways, as your accent will never pass as Helosundian. You’re berthing below with

most of the other passengers while your double will get the second-best cabin aboard.

You’ll want to be very careful.”

“Are there enemy agents on board?”

She snorted. “If there are any active ones, I will find them and deal with them. You must

be wary, though, for anyone could see something odd. And if they let their puzzlement slip

to someone else, that person, or someone they talk to, could be in communication with the

enemy.”

Before he could ask, she added, “And the enemy could be anyone.”

Keles smiled ruefully. “I am glad you were able to narrow that down for me.”

“I’ll do my best.” She pointed a finger toward the river’s south shore. “How far do you think

it is to the bank?”

Keles shrugged, but studied the distance for a moment, then answered. “Sixty-seven

yards, give or take.”

“Precisely. You’ve just given yourself away.”

“What?”

“No one save a cartographer or surveyor would estimate the distance the way you just did.

Most would say ‘a middling bowshot’ or ‘further than I can throw a stone.’ ”

“But you’re here to protect me.”

“And how do you know that?”

Keles quickly reviewed their conversation and felt his stomach fold in on itself. He began

to slide back along the railing away from her. “I guess I don’t.”

Tyressa grabbed him by the shoulder and he tried to bat her hand away, but he couldn’t

break her grip. He wanted to take that as confirmation that she
was
Keru and there to

protect him, but the only thing it signified was that he was in trouble.

“Stop, Kulshar.” She loosened her grip, but only a little. “I was told to tell you the sculptors won’t include your beard, and the painters will work with brown.”

A sign from the Prince.
Another shiver rocked him and her hand fell away. He shook his head. “You are going to have to work hard with me, right?”

“I will, yes, but there are advantages. I
know
you can learn. I
think
you will take orders.”

“Yes, to both of those.”

“Good. You’re like the Prince in the first, and I wish he were like you in the second.”

Keles smiled. “Is that why you are here?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m on this trip because I earned my grandfather’s ire.”

“I have no grandfather. He died in Helosunde.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Tyressa turned and leaned on the rail. “Why is that? You didn’t know him. From what my

family has said, he makes your grandfather look pleasant.”

“I still won’t say I’m happy for you.” He turned and leaned his elbows on the rail, too. “But

you know what I mean and you’re evading the question.”

“What question was that?”

“Why are you on this trip?”

She said nothing, but nodded in the direction of Wentokikun. “I was given an order. I am

here.”

“That’s it?”

She looked at him sidelong. “That’s all you need to know.”

He frowned. “Maybe I need to know more.”

“That is all I want to tell you.”

“But, if I’m to trust you . . .”

Tyressa shook her head. “You don’t have to trust me. You just have to trust that I know

what to do and how to do it, and that I will do my duty. Anything beyond that is immaterial.

The Prince trusts us. Why should you be different?”

“If he asked that sort of question, would you answer him?”

“That, Kulshar, is a hypothetical question with no validity, so it gets no answer.”

“I see.” He fell silent, letting the scent of cook smoke supplant the river’s heavy, sour

miasma. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

He waited for a reply and when he got none after a moment or two, he looked over and

saw she’d drifted away. Keles considered going after her, but hesitated. It was probably

for the best he didn’t, since that could attract attention. Moreover, she could have been off

to check something he didn’t notice. He felt frustrated and helpless, and that sank him

back to the night of the Prince’s celebration.

He’d made his bold statements to Majiata and waited for her reply. He expected she’d

scourge him, but it would have been worth it. In an instant, he’d seen how shabbily she’d

treated him, and his resentment had been immediate and strong. He’d braced for her to

strike back hard, fully shocked and petulant.

Instead, she’d just looked at him and begun to cry. Tears welled in her eyes, then gushed

down her cheeks, melting cosmetics in a dark stain. He imagined, just for a moment, that

this was all for effect, but then tears splashed down to soil her gown. Her lower lip

trembled and her nose began to run. She looked up at him, her moist eyes summoning up

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