Dark Empress (40 page)

His companion nodded and fell silent, taking in her surroundings as they climbed the street ever higher, past bristly, sweating men performing menial tasks, who stopped and watched as they passed. As she walked, with Samir reeling off names and facts, her mind wandered; she’d learned what she needed from him for now and had to think quietly.

The problem was that she was at Samir’s mercy and that rankled, but she couldn’t let it become an issue. Her plans had been shattered repeatedly, and Pelasia was further away than ever, but this was a temporary measure; an alliance of convenience. At least she was no longer bound for the north and Samir would take her back to M’Dahz, of that she was sure. She had to bide her time in the interim, stay low and cause no fuss.

And yet, there was something about the way Samir was acting and talking that made her pause. He was up to something and he was far more subtle and inscrutable than his brother. She would have laid Ghassan’s mind open by now like the entrails of a sacrificial animal and be picking through his plans and motives. Not so with Samir. In time he would slip, or she would pry the information from him. She may have to sleep with him in time, but it was a small price really for his help and her continued safety.

She turned to him and nodded, focussing once more on his conversation.

“… and the captain of the Sea Witch took the last position on the council, and became the twelfth permanent resident of the island. He lives in that palatial place up there in the cliffs. Brooding, isn’t it?”

“It is” she agreed, nodding as though she’d been listening to his drivel all the way up the slope. To her surprise, Samir stopped. They appeared to have arrived at their destination. A large building in the classic Imperial style, with eight white marbles columns fronting a grand portico, this must be the council that he’d spoken of.

With no ceremony, he strode across to the door and pushed it open, stopping and gesturing for Asima to join him. She approached with a little trepidation and followed him through the open door, conscientiously shutting it behind her. She was currently at the mercy of these people and would do well to try and get on their good side.

The hall they entered was impressive, but plain. For some reason, given the architectural style, Asima had expected something more grand and decorative. The hall was constructed of white marble or, at least, she thought as she noted with some satisfaction a crumbled area of wall in one corner showing its core, it was built of brick with a veneer of thin white marble to give a more noble impression. There was no furniture or decoration in the hall barring a single small wooden chair and desk to one side and a rickety bench by the opposite wall.

She had little time to ponder on the strangely disparate nature of the building, as Samir continued on across the room, gave a smart rap on the opposite door and, opening it, strode through, leaving it agape behind him.

“Masters of Lassos,” she heard him say as she hurried to catch up. “I return with good news and a request.”

A cracked and ancient voice answered quickly.

“Your requests, captain, are always troublesome.”

Samir was nodding as Asima reached the door and entered, closing it quietly behind her. There were three tables in a ‘U’ shape here with twelve impressive high-backed chairs at them. The floor space between the tables was occupied with a map of the Sea of Storms and its surrounding lands, constructed painstakingly accurately from different coloured marble and stone. Strange markings had been made in places, presumably noting the location of important vessels or the sites of some great event.

Only three of the chairs were occupied. The speaker, a man of extremely advanced years, was clearly a Pelasian, a fact that took her somewhat by surprise. For some reason she had drawn a mental line that separated Pelasians from these people. The other two occupants were men in their late forties. None of them looked remotely pleased to see Samir or his companion.

“This woman is an old acquaintance of mine and no friend of the Imperial authorities, who was being held captive by them and taken as a slave to the northern cities. I intend to return her to her home in due course and beg leave of the council to allow her to stay on the island until then.”

One of the ‘younger’ leaders stood and slammed his hands on the table.

“We do not bring outsiders here, captain Samir. You know the rules. You should have taken her elsewhere before returning. Now we should have to have her killed.”

“That was not possible, I’m afraid, master Culin.” Samir smiled. “She was being held captive on the Wind of God and now that that vessel languishes on the sea bed, it would be foolhardy of me to go to close to the mainland. Half the world’s navy will shortly be searching for me. We can’t afford to lose a certain item in my possession, after all…”

The three councillors fell silent and the speaker returned to his seat.

“That is good news, Samir. I wouldn’t say good enough to offset endangering everyone by bringing her here, but good news nonetheless. The Wind of God was beginning to cause great concern to the council.”

“Do I then have permission to allow the lady Asima to stay in Lassos?”

The councillors shared hidden looks and the elder rumbled for a moment before looking down his nose at them.

“She may stay on board your ship until the full council meets tomorrow. We will then decide her fate and consider yours. You are foolhardy, captain Samir. Khmun paid the price for your adventures, but rest assured that we will not fall in with your lunacy. Return to your ship and wait there until we send for you.”

Samir bowed and, turning, grasped Asima by the arm, guiding her from the room. As the door shut behind them, she regarded Samir levelly.

“Not over-friendly. I fear they will weigh down against me and you will pay the price for bringing me here. We may both die tomorrow”

Samir shrugged.

“There are events set in motion, Asima, of which you know nothing. The council will almost certainly sentence you to death and exile me. These things needed to be done. Now we must stop in and see a few friends before we return to the Empress and I need you to be as charming as possibly and preferably drop a few hints that you are full of very useful information. I am far from foolhardy. There are reasons for everything I do.”

Asima narrowed her eyes. She was sure of that… oh yes.

In which the Empress breaks out

Asima woke with a start. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all, let alone as deep as that, but the hours spent at Captain Faerus’ lodging had been warm and inviting and she had been ‘encouraged’ to drink considerably more wine than was good for her. It had taken every ounce of her self-control to hold her tongue and keep her secrets while playing the part Samir had asked of her.

The house had been prepared to celebrate the return of Samir. As soon as the Empress had appeared at the dock, Faerus had begun to crack the barrels of drink and sent one of his men out to gather their compatriots together. By the time Samir had arrived with Asima and a few chosen crewmates in tow, the alcohol was already flowing and more than a dozen men were laughing and singing.

The reaction to her presence was curious, with initial surprise giving way to suspicion. Then Samir had explained who she was, embellishing certain aspects of her history, such as her repeated captivity and her dislike of Imperial authorities. In Samir’s words, she appeared to be a troubled rebel repeatedly surviving the hardships brought down by one government or another. Asima was once again impressed at the subtle ways the young captain’s mind worked. When she thought about it, he had told no lies and left out few facts, while bending the truth to appear as he needed it.

To the other occupants of the room, she quickly became a figure of respect and would appear to have knowledge of the Pelasian navy and access to people in higher positions in both there and the Empire.

It had taken only moments for her to realise what he was doing. In the morning, the council would meet and Asima would be condemned to a watery grave as a danger to the security of Lassos. Samir may receive the same punishment or, at the very least, would be exiled from the island. However, by the time these decisions were announced, those who were already sympathetic with Samir and his politics would be aware that he had heroically removed the single greatest threat to the captains and their ships: the Wind of God. He would be a hero to them, which means the council would be condemning a hero to death.

Moreover, Asima was now known to have helped take down the ship by crippling her rudder. When combined with the impression that she was herself an outlaw with information that could be of great use to the folk of Lassos, the death sentence pronounced on her would likely create equal outrage.

Samir had used her to turn some of them against their own leaders. It was a masterly stroke, along the lines of things Asima had done herself.

The downside, of course, was that those who were outraged by all of this would still be vastly outnumbered by those who were loyal to the council and no great friend of Samir. He may have turned some pirates to his cause, but not enough to prevent their death once the announcements were made.

And that was obviously why mister Ursa, the bald and tattooed first officer, was gently shaking her awake now.

“Captain wants ya on the command deck, miss.”

Asima blinked wearily. This hardly seemed the same man who had glared and grumbled at her as they had first arrived yesterday afternoon. But then, Ursa had been present last night; had learned what the others had of her somewhat exaggerated past. By the middle of the evening he had begun to smile when he looked at her and, by the end, he’d been the worst of all culprits for force-feeding her the strong wine.

She had tried to tell Samir that all this alcohol was a bad idea, but he had insisted that it would be abnormal and unseemly to reject Faerus’ hospitality.

Rubbing her bleary eyes and trying to ignore the insistent thumping in her skull, Asima stood and stretched. With a grin, Ursa draped a blanket over her shoulders.

“Cold out there, miss. Fog’s in thick tonight.”

With a nod, Asima grasped the blanket and, pulling it tight around her, exited the cabin and walked the short distance to the ladder that led to the command deck.

She frowned as she eyed the deck.

There was a more activity that she thought there should be at night. The few visible crewmen moved silently, in much the same way as they had through the rocks. Ropes were being coiled and crates lifted aboard. The sight was made all the more eerie by the thickness of the fog that enveloped them all. She could barely see the bow of the ship, let alone the town. The jetty marched away on legs of oak into the blanket of white.

Turning, she climbed the ladder. Samir sat on a low wooden bench near the rudder.

“Ah, Asima.” His voice was soft, almost lost in the fog that settled creepily around the ship. “It would seem that the Gods of weather are feeling kind.”

She tried to keep the sneer from her face and was only partially successful.

“You need fog?”

Samir smiled.

“It wasn’t a necessity, but very useful, nonetheless. Makes things considerably easier”

Asima frowned, turned and cast her eyes across the rail. Sure enough, the jetty was slowly slipping away from them. Even in the moment she watched, she saw the end, jutting out welcomingly, disappearing into the all-consuming white.

“We’re underway? I never heard a thing!”

Samir smiled.

“Just ten oars. Enough to get us moving but not enough to make a loud noise, particularly in the fog. With any luck, we’ll be almost out of the harbour before we’re noticed.”

Asima shook her head.

“What are you doing, Samir?”

The young captain smiled.

“Saving your neck among other things. As I keep saying, plans are in motion. Well, I’ve now turned a corner and burned another bridge, to mix my metaphors.”

He noted the look of distrustful uncertainty on her face and his grin widened.

“The few members of my crew of whom I have never been entirely sure are back in Lassos, hopefully still drunk and unaware. The Empress now has a totally loyal crew. We will have a bounty placed on our head by the council as soon as they find out we’ve left, particularly when they realise that I’ve had to take one of the two compasses with me. But the leaders will lose a great deal of their support. I have friends in Lassos, Asima. The time of the council of twelve is coming to an end. Soon there will be only one ruler of Lassos.”

Asima nodded. Though he still had his secrets, some of his motives and plans were beginning to unfold and she could easily put herself in his position. Samir was more like her than she had ever imagined. Just as she planned and aspired to become an empress in her own right, Samir had his sights set on total rule of Lassos. Even now he was undermining the council and building a power base.

She smiled.

“You may just be the absolute opposite of your brother, Samir.”

For a moment, she pulled back as something dark and dangerous passed across the young captain’s face.

“I wouldn’t say that, Asima. Ghassan may be a little more law-abiding and strict than I, but we both have our ethics and codes of conduct. I recognise that there is some small similarity in the way our minds work, but I would advise against considering yourself my peer in any way. You are useful and our paths currently coincide, but make no mistake… I trust you less than any occupant of Lassos. They may by murderers, thieves and rapists, but they make no attempt to hide what they are. You can wrap yourself in as many layers of respectability as you wish, but I know what you are.”