Oathen (7 page)

“I want down! I want down!” the girl said,
wide-eyed, clutching Anesta’s shirt.

“Hush. In a moment.”

“Anesta! By the hearth! Have patience, woman.
There’s more to the tale,” Ahousi insisted, holding out a placating
hand.

Ahni, for her part, had shown neither surprise
nor fear. “I’m afraid the cult beat the fear of death out of me
rather thoroughly.”

“I’ll bet they did. Tell me the rest; I’m not
moving this dagger.”

Ahni didn’t protest. “I joined Dzur i’Oth
enthusiastically, hoping to serve a source of true power. Instead,
I got twisted around by Oolat’s grandiose ideas and lost myself. I
came to my senses during one of our raids under the guise of the
Blood Plague—gathering people to harvest for bloodmagic. The raid
was on the village where I grew up. My brother and his wife… Guilt
drove me from the cult, and fear forced me from Shanal.

“As soon as I heard about the powers of the
Silver Hand here in Salience, I felt the old pull of power. Only
this time, I was also afraid of them; I worried they were just as
bad as Dzur i’Oth. Luckily, I met Shalin Ebie and Shayin Ahousi,
and they helped me understand that the Silver Hands’ purpose was to
help others rather than themselves. They gave me a home here, and
I’ve served them ever since. They told me earlier that you would be
interested in one of Dzur i’Oth’s plans, which hasn’t been put into
motion yet. It involves a young prince in this Vint that Shayin
Ahousi mentioned.”

“Go on.”

Ahni summed up the cult’s plan for a young boy
named Addan.

Anesta hissed in disgust, then looked at
Ahousi. “That is why you suggested the Temple of
Knowledge.”

Ahousi gave her an angelic smile. “I have
perfect faith in your scheming talents, Unbroken.”

Ahni took a deep breath. “It would be my honor
to watch over the girl at this Temple of Knowledge. I’ll serve her
as faithfully as I have my mistresses.”

“Now will you put that dagger away?” griped
Ebie.

“Not yet. It’s not easy to walk away from Dzur
i’Oth. It’s even harder to forget their propaganda. I have just one
question for you, Ahni, and I’m only going to ask it once. If I get
the answer I want, I’ll let you live.”

Ahni’s eyes were unafraid. “Then
ask.”

“Who is the Shanallar to you?”

Ahni blinked. “She’s the nemesis of Dzur
i’Oth. The one woman they can never kill, who hid the key to their
unholy magical book. Who will return one day to destroy it forever,
according to the Scions.”

“The who?” Anesta began.

But Ahni’s eyes went wide, and a shocked smile
split her face. She dropped back a step and stumbled to one knee,
narrowly missing Anesta’s dagger. “It’s you. The Unbroken is the
Shanallar! It all fits. You’re actually real!” She clapped her
fingertips over her lips and let slip a sob of happy disbelief.
“You’re going to save us all.”

Anesta lowered the dagger and let young Sanych
slip to the floor beside her. With a nod, she said, “Yes, I
am.”

Six
evenings out of Salience, Sanych found herself adrift in the warm
sea, shaded by a mass of seaweed that concealed the bamboo struts
she and everyone else hung onto. Blinking a splash of seawater from
her eyes, she recalled Rhona’s instructions to her: “You stay here
where it’s safe,” the captain had said, pointing to the deck of the
Princeling
, “and maybe then no one will give away our
plans.”

The pirate might have had a point, besides
humiliating her. Dangling over unknown fathoms of water, with at
least seven species of shark native to these waters, as well as an
electric eel and nine fish with various venom delivery methods, was
certainly not Sanych’s idea of “safe”. She resisted the urge to
climb on top of the seaweed camouflage, instead spending her time
listening for the sound of the surf that would signal the end to
their camouflaged journey.

Rhona had selected two hundred volunteers from
the six ships that remained after Ruel had taken temporary command
of one of them, and they had harvested a kelp bed in order to
conceal themselves from Aldiban sentries. Now the volunteers
floated silently with the current, which, according to Rhona, would
wash them ashore at the Aldib seacliff, during sunset’s high
tide.

A shadow’s cooling touch reached her at the
back end of the trailing kelp mat—the seacliff was finally between
her and the sun. Clutching a thin bamboo support in either hand,
she let her neck rest back on another slender pole and looked up
through the rubbery kelp leaves. The island loomed
ahead.

Minutes later, she could make out the
crescent-shaped beach that footed the Aldib seacliff. Coral reefs
began to drag at her thin leather shoes, and she lifted her feet,
bracing for the impact with the sand.

The ocean teased the enormous kelp mat for
nearly half an hour before the receding tide deposited its last
tangles on the wet sand. Sanych was dragged to and fro, sloshing
longer than anyone else, before she jammed her feet in the sand and
just hunkered there, spitting out water after each wave overwhelmed
her.
I’d rather drown than be seasick for another minute
,
she thought, swallowing back her bile. When the waves only came up
to her knees, she dropped from her low crouch into an exhausted
lump under the green kelp.

Why did I think this was a good idea
again?
she asked herself, willing reason to return.
Oh yes.
Something about needing to record the quest…importance of
accuracy…I didn’t take into account the dozens of ways to die
during this mission. If I survive, I’ll definitely add those into
my calculations.

The sky dimmed. The only sounds she heard were
the incessant waves, now lapping at her feet through the kelp, and
dozens of seagulls. The two hundred pirates within a stone’s throw
of her were perfectly silent. The air smelled terrible, though. Not
only were there the usual smells of rotting fish and other oceanic
discards, but the Aldib dump must have been nearby. Rotten food and
slaughter offal invaded her nostrils, along with even fouler
scents. She gritted her teeth and swallowed, plucking a kelp leaf
and placing it right over her nose.

For the love of Wisdom, I hope they
hurry
!

~~~

A lone ship bearing the name
Lenila
and
the banner of Kauna’kana requested permission to tie up at the home
dock of House Nabal just before the sun began to set. After
receiving permission, it gently kissed the dock, and an armed dock
escort waited while the ship lowered its gangplank.

The sturdy captain, with his gaudy
purple-brimmed hat atilt, swaggered down first, followed by four of
his own guards. After them came three men, shackled together. None
looked pleased about it, but the one in the middle was exuding
waves of terror, while the other two merely glared in
annoyance.

The Nabalan lieutenant stepped forward to
greet the ship’s captain.

“Fair skies and welcome,” he said in Jualan,
bowing just enough to be considered polite. “What may the humble
House of Nabal do for you this evening?”

The captain replied in Hyndi. “I do not speak
your tongue. Much forgiveness. You may converse in this language,
please?”

“Of course,” the lieutenant said, switching
tongues.

“Much excellence. We are finding this man
here.” He turned and pointed to the terrified prisoner. “We wish to
return him to you, and beg for reward.”

The lieutenant frowned and squinted at the
prisoner. “I do not know this man. What has he done, that I should
reward you for bringing him to me?”

The captain leaned in, and his stormy blue
eyes gleamed. “He runs away from his wedding,” he
confided.

“Do not listen to him!” the prisoner shouted
in courtly Jualan, jerking at his chains. The other two men
restrained him and ordered him to be quiet. “No, it’s not true! The
pirates attacked my voth-nai; I was taken prisoner! I was on my way
to the wedd—”

One of his guards punched him in the face, and
the prisoner staggered, clapping a hand to his mouth and bringing
it away bloody.

The lieutenant’s eyes widened. “Kemsil
Urondarei! Of Jath!”

“None other,” the man said, standing tall in
his ragged clothing. “I beg you, sir, set me free and let me go my
way, and Jath will be in the debt of Nabal for a
generation.”

“Whatever he speaks, it is lies,” the captain
drawled, waving a dismissive hand. “You will take him from me,
yesno?”

The lieutenant licked his lips. “You know he
was to marry into House Aldib. Why have you brought him to us?”
Suspicion lined the man’s forehead. Kemsil looked away quickly, but
the lieutenant caught the smirk on his face. “What do you know?” he
demanded.

The captain shrugged. “We would stop across
your bitsy island at House of Aldib earlier this day, excepting how
they seemed busy on their docks.”

“Busy?”

“Full. Crowded. With pirates. It did not seem
healthy to disturb.”

“Pirates?” The lieutenant’s eyes widened. “Are
you sure?”

“Swordfish on every prow,” the captain said,
shrugging one shoulder. “What room for my one ship among their
forty? So I come here to Nabal, loyal friend of Aldib. You
are
loyal friend, yesno?”

The man’s eyes prowled the dock and the ship
before him for a few long moments as he pondered his options.
Whirling to his men, he began barking orders in Jualan, and the men
scattered. Most bolted up the hill with him at a dead run, while
several remained behind. Shoving the captain out of the way, they
grabbed the prisoner and his two guards and hustled them away as
well.

As Kemsil protested with terrified demands for
his freedom, the captain shouted, “Hoy! That’s my prisoner! Where’s
my reward? You can’t take my men!”

One of the soldiers placed his sword against
the captain’s chest, and muttered a few words in Jualan. The
captain raised his hands in capitulation and went quiet. In
minutes, he was the only one on the dock.

Shouts and the neighing of horses carried
faintly on the air, and the captain’s shoulders slumped. He walked
back up the gangplank and stepped onto the deck.

“Fine job, Ruel,” Meena said, coming up from
below, sword in hand. “You’d make a passable captain any day. Not
to mention you have a quick grasp of languages.”

“That was my Daskan character, Captain Harr.
I’m glad he translates so well into Jualan. After that performance,
I could use a—”

Meena handed him the rum that she carried in
her other hand.

“Shiny.” He took a long swig.

She stepped to the
Lenila
’s rail and
looked out at the slow rise of land at the end of the island. The
sun lit the grassy slopes and swaying forests with a fiery hue.
Miles away, the eastern end of the island was dark already,
shadowed by the humped middle of the land.

Ruel stepped up beside her. “How long do we
wait?”

“Not long. They’ll be away soon. When it gets
quiet, we’ll go.”

Time dragged by. Ruel shed his gaudy coat and
hat. Finally the Nabalans rode out; the pounding of their horses’
hooves gradually faded to silence.

The Shanallar spoke. “Now.”

Meena, Ruel and a few dozen Clansfolk slipped
down the dock and onto House Nabal grounds. Skulking silently from
shadow to shadow, avoiding the occasional pedestrian, the pirates
began to raid. Meena and Ruel checked the outbuildings for their
companions, finding them in a small shed next to the kitchen
gardens.

She waved Ruel over. He picked the lock on the
shed door, and Meena slipped inside. Drying herbs hanging from the
rafters filled the air with their sharp scents.

“How are we doing?” Geret asked her in a low
voice. He sat on the floor of the shed, resting against a barrel of
seed, chained to Kemsil, who was chained to Salvor.

“So far so good,” she replied, lifting a key
on a leather thong from around her neck. A few quick twists of her
wrist freed the three men. “Let’s go.”

As they followed her out of the shed, Ruel
darted back in for the manacles. “Don’t leave these behind. We
stole them fair and square.”

“Off you go, then,” Meena smiled. “Just
remember, ‘too much swag, your keel will drag’.”

“Aye, Seamother. We’ll pick lightly. See you
at the rendezvous later.” Ruel melted back into the
shadows.

Meena led the three men to the stables, now
nearly empty. Only three horses remained, back in the far corner,
and none appeared in the best of health. Geret, Meena and Salvor
quickly saddled them and led them outside.

Geret and Salvor mounted their horses, and
Meena ordered Kemsil to mount up behind her. Moments later, the
horses and their riders stole out onto the road that led across the
island.

~~~

Kemsil could no longer see his and the others’
shadows stretching long on the road ahead; the sun had finally set.
Their horses slowed to a walk, passing pampas grass clusters on the
side of the road. The dozens of Nabalan soldiers that had ridden
out ahead of them were gathered around the gate that led to Aldib’s
compound, shouting and gesticulating. Guards on the wall shouted
back, sometimes to the Nabalans and sometimes to others within the
walls.