Malspire (31 page)

In all it was considered a successful battle. The Imperial and Ardalrion Navy had taken a terrible beating, but the flagship had survived as had three of the other battleships. The same could not be said for the Battleship Frost Fang which after the gunfire had ended lost its battle with a fire and exploded violently when at last the flames reached the barrels of gunpowder hidden deep within her belly. The Battleship Wind Reaper sank with all hands. The Brave Mission simply vanished into the night. What had become of her was anybody's guess, but would undoubtedly become fable with tales of black sea monsters, summoned by the wicked rebel shamans, swallowing her whole. The frigates lost eight ships, burnt or buried at sea. One, the River of Fire was thought to be taken and driven west by the surviving rebels. The butcher's bill was still being counted but these many I knew of.

It took the better part of five days to make the return journey back to Umuron. We were in no hurry and many of the ships were listing and needed to go easy. Towing the prize ships was also slow work. The Admiral had personally thanked me and the crew for our sacrifice. I was even a little embarrassed when the Admiral had used the word, hero, and shook my hand, speaking of how the Lord Admiral and the Emperor himself would hear of how an Ardalrion had crippled a grand battleship. I had told him, I was no hero.

It was all glory and praise and relief, but it was short lived, for as soon as we made land, I was placed under arrest by Lord Mornight Pavantu of the Emperor’s Secret Servants.

Chapter Fourteen

The door to the inn opened and six naval provosts marched in, followed by a provost sergeant. The room went silent.

“Captain Malspire Ardalrion?” called the sergeant.

I stood and the sergeant marched over to me.

“Can I help you, sergeant?”

“Are you Captain Lord Malspire Ardalrion?”

“Yes,” I growled, suspecting trouble.

“I am to escort you to the Naval Office for questioning.”

Some of the men moved to defend their captain but I stopped them with a wave of my hand. We had been celebrating the victory, but the mood had quickly turned defensive when the hated uniforms had entered the room.

The Dragonfly had made it back in one piece and I wasted no time in getting my crew on board. I would have liked to sell it for prize money but now that the Lady Ocean was gone, the Dragonfly was the obvious choice for my next command. Of course that was up to the Naval Office, but I also wanted to keep my crew together so as not to lose any to other navy vessels. Putting them up in the ship and keeping them busy seemed the best way.

Only part of the fleet had returned as the rest went west including the Sea Huntress, chasing the enemy back to their ports. As evening fell, most my crew had made their way to the Dragon's Tooth. Perti stayed behind to fuss over his new engine together with a few others as guards or men who simply wanted to rest. The seriously wounded had been taken to the naval infirmary, and the dead that could be saved from the Lady Ocean had been buried at sea.

“May I ask what this is about?”

“I wouldn’t know, sir.”

“Of course, then let us make haste.”

Taking my coat and hat which Olvan had recovered, I let the naval provost sergeant escort me to the Umuron Naval Office. Willan, who was now as good as new, wanted to come along but I told him to stay.

A dog was barking outside. People turned and stared at me. I sneered at a woman who gave me a disgusted look. I had done nothing wrong as far as I knew, but people always assumed the worst when a man was escorted by the provosts. Hero one minute, reviled the next.

They guided me down a flight of steps to a cold and damp corridor where I had to relinquish my arms, doing so without fuss, and then was shown into a large cell which had a high, barred window, barren but for a desk and two chairs. The guards left me there, locking the door with a clank behind them. I wandered round the dank cell and wondered what this could all be about. Of course I was angry but resolved to keep my head until I knew exactly what was going on. After only a few minutes there came footsteps so I placed myself under the window, holding my hands behind my back, looking up at the sky, hoping to convey a relaxed aloofness.

The door was unlocked and in stepped a smartly dressed clerk, I saw as I calmly turned round. The clerk was middle aged with a pair of half-moon spectacles. He had a very round head and large bald patch framed by long greasy hair. After the clerk came two guards. One was carrying a small table and the other a chair. With a nod, the clerk had the table put into a corner where he sat down and placed some blank sheets of paper before him as well as an ink pot and pen. Then Lord Mornight Pavantu entered the room followed by his ogre, Mister Crurt, still as angry as when I first met him.

“Lord Ardalrion,” Pavantu said by way of greeting. He did not smile but gave a small bow.

“What is the meaning of this Pavantu?”

“Please be seated. We have grave matters to discuss.”

Reluctantly I sat down and glowered at the Secret Servant.

“This is Sumions.” Pavantu indicated the clerk. “He will be keeping a record of our discussion.”

“After all I have done in these last few weeks, you suspect me of treason?” I could think of no other reason for Pavantu to have me taken into custody.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, my lord.”

I leant back, took out my pipe and pouch of tobacco, and then proceeded to fill the pipe and light it. All the while Pavantu watched me in silence. I only performed the small task to calm my nerves. I was fighting the anger and a fear of something dreadful although I could not place it yet as I had done nothing that could be seen as treachery.

When finally I relaxed a little and blew out a puff of blue smoke, Lord Pavantu continued. “Where is your brother?”

“Ajator? I told you when we last met. I don’t know.”

“What would you say your brother’s feelings were towards the rebellion when you last saw him?”

“He is an Ardalrion. He is and always will be a loyal servant of the Emperor. Why are you asking?”

“Just answer the question.”

“He wants to end the rebellion and bring the west back under Imperial control.”

“Does he hate them?”

I thought about this. Did he hate them? Did I hate them?

“No. The rebels are not barbaric murderers. They’re not evil as such. They’ve simply lost their way. They’ve been seduced by a madman into acts of treason based on a flawed ideology. Ajator doesn’t hate them, but pities them as do I.” I did not think this the time to argue that the ideology perhaps had some merit.

“So you feel sympathy for the rebels?”

“Pity and sympathy are not the same. Don’t play word games with me, Pavantu, just tell me what the hells is going on. Why are you asking about Ajator?”

“His loyalty to the Empire is in question.”

“I understood that, but why? When last we spoke, you seemed sure of his loyalty and now you have me dragged to this place and questioned about him. What did he do that is so wrong? Why do you no longer trust him?”

Pavantu fell silent.

“Well?”

“He and his crew sailed recently under secret orders. I now know that he was ordered to return to Norlan where he was to perform a task for the Secret Servants or at least it was from there the order originated. I don’t know what this task was or why Ajator was being used, but it seems as though Ajator used his new position to attack an Imperial servant.”

“But… I don’t know why your club of cloaked spies would want to use an honourable Imperial Naval officer for its dirty work but I am sure that if Ajator agreed to this then it was for the good of Ardalrion, Empire and Emperor. If he attacked an Imperial servant then I have no doubt that this servant is a traitor.”

“No doubt?”

“Of course. Who the hells was it anyway?”

“Lord Luthor Balegrim.”

My heart stopped and I found that I was suddenly lost for words. The room fell silent apart from the scratching of the clerk's pen. Ajator attacked the Master of the Secret Servants, possibly the most powerful man on the Emperor’s council? “You must be mistaken,” I finally said.

“No. My master was attacked by your twin brother and was badly wounded before the traitor was seen off.”

“Traitor?” I whispered. “You have the wrong man. Ajator would never betray the Emperor. He would never betray our father. You lie!” I shouted the last two words. I was about to throw myself at the agent in a rage brought on by the effrontery to my family name but stopped myself short, realising that if I attacked Pavantu I would only make things worse; far worse. Instead I slammed the table with my fist.

Lord Pavantu leant back and studied me. He looked sombre, pale, his eyes deep in shadow, very serious. “You understand now why I want to talk to you.”

“I understand that your organisation is made up of incompetent morons who seek trouble where there is none and cause trouble when not found. You can’t stand the fact that Ajator is the perfect officer and gentleman and a true servant of the Empire. You lot want to bring him down. What other reasons do you have? Has my father upset a rival lord? Are you being paid? Is Balegrim being paid?”

All the while Sumions was scratching away at his papers. Pavantu looked sideways at the clerk, then at the other guards in the room.

“Are you a loyal servant?” the Secret Servant finally asked bluntly.

“You know I am, and you bastards can all go to hells.”

Pavantu shot me a quick smile, and then said to the room in general, “Then we are done. Please leave Captain Lord Ardalrion and myself.”

The room emptied and soon Lord Pavantu and I sat by ourselves, staring at one another in silence.  I was going through everything I had heard and everything my brother may have said or done in the past that might explain things. Lord Pavantu just watched me.

Finally I said, “Am I under arrest?”

“What your brother has done could be seen as a direct attack on the Emperor," said Pavantu ignoring the question. "This would mean certain death not only for Ajator but your entire family and household. Your father however is as shocked as any it would seem, and the Emperor does not doubt him. You however are not as well known to the Emperor."

I could guess that the Emperor would not want to arrest the Duke. The risk of a second rebellion was too great. Ardalrions are loyal to the house and the house is loyal to the Emperor.

"What has the Emperor decided? Do you know?"

"A lot has happened in a short while. The Emperor is wise and has allowed your father to retreat back to Ardalrion, leaving the fleet in the capable hands of Lord Villor. Lady Ardalrion has vanished."

"Lady?... Veinara!" I said, just realising the danger she must be in.

"I suspect that you need not fret, Malspire. My report tells me that she vanished when your father retreated. My guess would be that she will now be hidden away in Ardalrion until things blow over. Your father may not have approved of the marriage, but he knows his duty."

"What now? What of Ajator and myself?"

"Ajator has not only insulted the Emperor, but made an enemy of a most powerful man. Balegrim is as ruthless as he is cunning. He is also unforgiving. Your brother's fate is sealed, and now the Empire will hunt him down. As for you..."

I felt sick. I fought to control myself. Ajator! Ajator, my beloved brother. Bastards and boy swivers the lot of them, the miserable turds and cock riders! How dare they accuse my perfect brother of such muck and filth. Ajator is risen above them all! Ajator is true, and here, before me sits the voice of rot who speaks an endless stream of effluence. Before I knew it a red mist rose before my eyes, and I threw myself at Pavantu who was still talking. My fist struck the side of the man's head and knocked him off the chair. The table went over and I fell on top of the Secret Servant, punching wildly and madly.

"Liar!" I bellowed and punched again. "Liar, liar, liar!"

Panavtu was hardly defending himself, but I did not care. I wanted to kill the man. Pavantu was now the face of all that I hated. He was the bearer of news that stank worse than any sea hag or ship's bilge. The cell door burst open, but not before a blade was suddenly in Pavantu's hand and thrust up under my chin. Not all the way but enough to cut the skin and make me stop. I was sobbing. The pain of the blade brought me out of my madness and I raised myself away from the man who followed. Pavantu's face was bleeding from a split lip and bloody nose. The Secret Servant pushed and I fell back. Crurt and the guards at the door waited. Pavantu pushed me back to the wall, breathing heavily with an anger and fire in his eyes.

"Do it then, worm," I said. "Cut deep and bloody end it all. My brother will come through this and he will find you. He'll cut you a new one, then swive you proper with steal!"

"Your brother..." said Pavantu, then halted. He was visibly shaking with anger, but I saw that he was trying to regain his composure. "Your brother is missing. You will remain here. You are under arrest and in time you will be transported to the city for further questioning." Pavantu leaned closer before hissing, "The Emperor did not sign a death warrant yet, Malspire, but accidents will happen."

I said nothing, the point of the blade pressed hard against me. Suddenly the blade was gone and Pavantu stormed out of the cell. The guards followed and locked the door behind them, but not before Crurt gave me a chilling smile. I fell to the floor and sobbed like I had not done since I was a small child. Ajator! What has happened?

***

Days passed. I heard nothing. The guards refused to talk to me. I fully expected to die here. It would probably come during the night. Alive, I was a problem, a lose end for the Emperor and the spy masters. Pavantu's words about accidents meant only one thing, and I was torn between resignation and rebellion. If my brother was doomed then I had nothing to live for. Perhaps Ajator was already dead. The Emperor wanted my father to honour his oaths, but the sons of Duke Ardalrion were now a threat. What of Veinara? I sighed as I sat against the wall. The table and chairs had been removed, and all I was left with was a pile of rotting straw for a bed and a bucket for my piss and shit. The small window was a luxury now and showed as night drew in. I scratched at a louse on my unshaven chin, a reminder that this room had been previously occupied, and I wondered if I would leave some for the next occupant.

As it got darker, I dosed off, head on knees. I do not know if I slept for minutes or hours, but by the light of the moon, I guessed it was late. Standing, I went to the bucket to relieve myself, the splash of piss hitting the floor around it and my boots, not that I cared. Damn it all. Perhaps I could quicken the wait. Perhaps I could cut my wrists or somehow hang myself. I half-heartedly looked round in the darkness for a way to accomplish this. What of Veinara? What happened to Ajator? He must have been betrayed. Did this Lord Balegrim hate my father perhaps?