Authors: Michael A Stackpole
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.”
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