Mad Ship (65 page)

For the first time, Paragon spoke. “What won’t be tolerated?” he asked curiously.

Althea managed not to smile. Brashen took the question seriously. “I won’t tolerate any relationship between hands that affects the operation of this vessel.”

Jek had approached as they were speaking. She raised one eyebrow, but kept her silence until Brashen acknowledged her. “Jek. Is there a problem?”

She had heard what they were discussing. She didn’t pretend otherwise. “No, sir. Nor do I expect there to be one. I’ve sailed before, with mixed crews. If you don’t mind my saying so, I know how to handle myself in close quarters.”

Probably only Althea could tell that Brashen fought to keep from smiling. “I don’t doubt that you do, Jek. My concern is mostly for the men who don’t know how to govern themselves.”

Jek didn’t smile. “I’m sure they’ll learn, sir.”

Surprising them all, Paragon added, “Let’s hope the lesson is not too painful for anyone.”

“HE HAS SPENT THE PAST THREE DAYS
on it. All I’m saying is that if it’s something of value, he should know it by now. And if it isn’t, there are other places I’d like to put him to work. Places that, in my opinion, show a lot more promise than that little cell.” Bendir put down his pipe. “That’s all I’m saying,” he repeated defiantly. He cast an exasperated look at his younger brother. Reyn sat across the polished wood table. He looked harried and pale. His shirt was rumpled as if he had slept in it.

“You said much the same thing when I insisted I needed more time to puzzle out the flame jewels,” Reyn retorted. “If you had listened to me then, far fewer of them would have been damaged in recovery. Some things don’t happen overnight, Bendir.”

“Such as your growing up, for instance,” Bendir grumped to himself. He examined the bowl of his pipe. It had gone out. He set it aside. His embroidered shirt and neatly combed hair contrasted sharply with his younger brother’s appearance.

“Bendir!” Jani Khuprus instantly rebuked her eldest son. “That is not fair. Reyn has told us that he is having a hard time keeping his mind on this task. We should be understanding, not condemn him for that. As I recall, you were none too focused when you were courting Rorela.” She smiled fondly at her youngest son.

“He’d be a lot less distracted if he chose a sensible woman like Rorela, instead of a spoiled Bingtown girl who doesn’t even know her own mind,” Bendir retorted. “Look at him. He has the color of a mushroom. It’s a wonder he doesn’t go about walking into walls. Ever since he began courting this Malta, she has done nothing but torment him. If she can’t make up her mind, then … ”

Reyn leaped to his feet. “Shut up!” he told his brother savagely. “You don’t know anything at all about what she’s going through, so just shut up.” He snatched up the ancient parchments from the table with a fine disregard for their fragility and stalked off toward the door. Jani gave her elder son an exasperated look. She hastened after Reyn to set a restraining hand on his arm.

“Please, son. Come back, sit down, and talk with us. I know the strain you are under. And I appreciate how you must share Malta’s grief over her missing father.”

“Not to mention
our
missing liveship,” Bendir added under his breath. He had intended that Reyn hear his remark, and his brother took the bait. He spun to face this new provocation.

“That’s all you care about, isn’t it?” he accused him. “A good deal. A sharp bargain. You care nothing for what I feel about Malta. You could not even grant me time away from the city and transport to Bingtown last month when she first received her bad news. It’s always the same with you, Bendir. Money, money, money. I find these parchments, and I want the time to make sense of them. It is not easy. There are very few written documents from the Elderlings. That makes translating what we do find difficult. I want to discover all of what they can tell us. I hope they may be a clue as to why there are so few written records. They obviously were a literate folk; there should be a wealth of books and scrolls. But where? You care nothing for solving the greater mystery that may be the key to the whole city. To you, these documents only represent one thing. Can we make a profit from what they say? If not, toss them aside and go dig up something else.” As if to mock Bendir’s attitude, he flung the parchments casually onto the table between them. Jani winced as they landed. It would not take much abuse to crumble them into fragments.

“Please,” she said sharply. “Both of you. Sit down. There are things to discuss.”

Grudgingly, they came to the table. Jani seated herself at the head of it, intentionally taking the position of authority. Bendir had become a bit too officious with his younger brother lately. It was time to take her eldest son down a notch or two. At the same time, she did not want to encourage Reyn in his sullen melancholy. Of late, it seemed that was his only mood. She, for one, was heartily sick of it. She gave them no warning before she attacked.

She leveled a forefinger at Bendir. “You have no excuse for being jealous of your brother’s courtship. When you were first infatuated with Rorela, the entire family was tolerant of your antics. You spent every spare moment you had on her doorstep. I seem to recall that you demanded we redecorate an entire wing of Rooster Hall for her, painting all of it in shades of green because you said it was her favorite color. Nor would you allow me to consult with her as to whether that was truly her wish. Do you recall how she reacted to your ‘surprise’ for her?”

Bendir glared. Reyn grinned, an expression she had not seen on his face for some time. She wished she could have let it linger, but one had to strike while the iron was hot.

“And you have to stop acting like a lovesick boy, Reyn. You’re a man. I would have expected this of you had you fallen in love at fourteen, but you are over twenty. You need to practice more restraint in how you display the heart on your sleeve. Your request to dash off to Bingtown, unannounced, at a moment’s notice to us, was simply unreasonable. Your sulking since then ill becomes you. You will go downriver shortly, and you will escort your lady to her first Summer Ball. What more can you ask of us?”

Glints of anger came into his eyes. Good. If she could make them both irritated with her, chances are they would commiserate with each other. So it had always worked when they were boys.

“What more could I ask of you? I could ask a little understanding of what she is enduring! I wanted to go to her, to lend her and her family what support I could during this crisis. Instead, what have I been allowed? Nothing. You have sent off polite notes of sympathy, and say that letters directly from me to Malta would be precipitate. Mother, I intend to marry her. How can it be precipitate to ask my family to aid hers?”

“The family’s resources are not yours to dispense, Reyn. You have to understand that. In your ardor, you would commit us all, far too deeply. I know it is her father and her family liveship at stake. My heart bleeds for them. It also represents a sizable investment on our part, one that may already be irretrievably lost. Reyn, we cannot throw good money after bad. No. Do not stalk off. Hear me out. What you perceive as cruel is only common sense. Should I allow you and Malta to beggar yourselves in what may be a lost cause? We’ve all heard tales of this Kennit. My opinion of Kyle Haven, apart from his being Malta’s father, is not a high one. This I say only for your ears. He has brought this on himself. I do not say he deserved this, only that he left himself and his family and ship open to this.

“Nor can I approve of the course the Vestrits have chosen to follow in this ‘rescue’ attempt. Not even their own friends and neighbors are supporting them in this. It is all very ill-advised: Althea is strong-willed to the point of mulishness, they have this disowned Trader’s son at the helm and some foreigner providing money. The ship they are using should never have left the beach again. Paragon is a rebuke to all of us. Our ignorance is our only claim to innocence. He should never have been built from mixed plank, but even so, the Ludlucks have a heavier share of the blame. They loaded him too heavy with cargo on deck and then piled on the sail to make up for it. He was top heavy when he went over.

“Our greed built that ship too swiftly, and their greed drove him mad. We were both to blame for what he became. Beaching him was the wisest thing that was ever done with him; refitting him has to be the most foolish.”

“What other choice did the Vestrit family have?” Reyn asked quietly. “Their fortunes are teetering. They have been most honest with us about that. So they mount what effort they can with the resources they can beg or borrow.”

“They could have waited,” Jani declared. “It has not been all that long. Kennit is known for making his victims wait for the ransom offer. It will come.”

“No, it won’t. By all accounts, the man wanted a liveship, and he took one. Now there is a rumor the
Ringsgold
has vanished as well. Do you realize how vulnerable that leaves us, Mother? Pirates could come right up the Rain Wild River. We have never planned for such an emergency. We have nothing in place to stop them. I think the Vestrits have taken the only sensible action. That liveship must be recovered, at any cost. They are risking their kin and their family fortune to do so. Ultimately, they do so to protect us. And what do we do? We let them.”

“What do you want us to do?” Bendir asked wearily.

Reyn leaped on this opportunity. “Forgive the liveship debt. Help fund this expedition, at the least. Take action against the Satrap, who has allowed piracy and slavery to flourish and thus precipitated this whole situation.”

Bendir was instantly outraged. “Not only do you propose to risk our fortunes along with theirs, but to plunge us into a political whirlpool. This has been discussed in the Rain Wild Traders’ circle. Until Bingtown commits to stand beside us, it is too soon to defy the Satrap. I am as sick as you are of his boot upon our neck, but—”

“But you’ll endure it until someone else is ready to take the first risk!” Reyn finished angrily for his brother. “Just as Bingtown is ready to let the Vestrits take the first risk in challenging the pirates, and Tenira stood alone in challenging the tariff.”

Jani had not foreseen the conversation venturing into this area, but she leaped at her chance. “In this, I must agree with Reyn. The situation has not improved since I last addressed the Bingtown Traders’ Council, but I think the climate of opinion in Bingtown has. From the reports I received of the tariff riot, I think that if the Khuprus family took a stand, others would follow. And I think that stand must be for complete independence.”

A profound silence followed her words. After a time, Reyn said in a small voice, “So much for me being the one willing to risk the complete family fortune.”

“We risk it more when we do nothing,” Jani declared. “It is time we aligned ourselves with like-minded persons, whether they are from The Wilds or Bingtown.”

“Like Grag Tenira?” Reyn asked.

“I do not think it is coincidence he fled here. The Grove family has been hosting him; they have strong trade ties with the Tenira family.”

“And strong sympathy for any who wish to stand against the Satrap,” Reyn added thoughtfully.

Bendir looked surprised. “When did my little brother become so interested in politics? It seemed to me that we had to drag you to that meeting in Bingtown.”

“It was well that you did. It opened my eyes to many things,” Reyn replied easily. To his mother, he suggested, “We should have Grag Tenira over to dinner. With the Groves, of course.”

“I think that would be a wise course.” She watched her older son, and when he nodded approval, she breathed a secret sigh of relief. She would not live forever. The sooner her sons learned to work together, the better. She ventured to divert the topic. “So, Reyn. Have you made any sense of those old papers?” She nodded to the ancient parchments he had abandoned on the table.

“Some.” He frowned as he drew them toward him. “There are a lot of unfamiliar words in them. What I have deciphered is both exciting and frustrating. There seems to be references to another city, substantially upriver of us.” He scratched at a scaly patch on his cheek. “If I am interpreting it correctly, it would be way to the back of beyond. Almost to what some call the Mountain Kingdom. If such a city existed and we could locate it … well. It might represent the greatest find since Trehaug was founded here.”

“A smoke dream,” Bendir said dismissively. “There have been explorations up the river before. Nothing was found. If there is another city, it is likely buried deeper than Trehaug was.”

“Who knows?” Reyn challenged him. “I tell you, from what I can translate, it is quite a ways upriver from us. It might have escaped destruction altogether.” He looked speculative. “For all we know, the Elder race could have survived there. Imagine what they could teach us … ” He let his voice trail off, unaware of the worried glance that passed between his mother and brother. “I think it is worth more study. And I think I will take my questions to the dragon and see what she says.”

“No.” Bendir forbade it bluntly. “Reyn, I thought we were clear on that. You are to stay out of the Crowned Rooster Chamber. That log has entirely too much power over you.”

“It’s not a log. She’s a dragon. She should be freed.”

Jani and Bendir did not try to hide the look they exchanged. Bendir spoke almost angrily. “I should have cut up that damn thing a long time ago, when I first suspected you were susceptible to it. But the time wasn’t right. It’s the last log of wizardwood, and the biggest. The ship we build from it will be the last liveship … unless you are right about this other city of yours. Perhaps we might find more wizardwood there.”

“You won’t find it without me,” Reyn pointed out quietly. “And I won’t help you if you kill the dragon.”

Bendir crossed his arms on his chest. Jani knew the gesture well. He was trying to contain his anger with his youngest brother. Reyn the dreamer, Reyn the scholar, so often frustrated pragmatic Bendir. She had always hoped that with time her boys would learn to complement one another. Now she feared they would always be at odds.