Scimitar War (35 page)

Chapter 24

New Arrivals

A thrum of greeting startled Shelly from a half-sleep. She reached out in the gloom of predawn light, blinked to adjust her eyes, and grabbed Farsee’s wrist. *Did you hear that?*

He stirred and blinked at her. *What?* His hands moved slowly, as if he were still asleep. The little grotto they had discovered outside the harbor was comfortable enough, though the surge of the waves overhead made it difficult for Shelly to sleep well. Evidently, Farsee didn’t have that problem.

*I heard a mer call,* she signed, tugging his arm. *Come on!*

He followed her out of the grotto into open water, and winced as she sounded a call of greeting. His countenance brightened, however, when a responding call rattled their ears.

*That was close by!* She didn’t have to urge him this time, and when she flipped her tail, he was right at her side. She thrummed again, and this time was answered immediately. Two mer materialized from the gloom, and she recognized them right away. *Tailwalker! Chaser!*

*Shelly! Farsee! Finally, we have found you!* They all grasped hands in greeting. Shelly had always admired Chaser’s lithe frame and sleek tail, and clasped the scout’s hands lingeringly. *Is this where they have taken Seamage Flaxal Brelak?*

*Yes. The city is huge, and the water in the harbor is foul, so we have been staying outside. She is still here, but they took her some distance from the water. I can barely feel her presence, and it hasn’t changed for many tides. I don’t know what has befallen her.* She noticed the muted colors of Tailwalker and Chaser’s scales; they were worried. In fact, they both looked haggard and drawn, as if they had swam long without food or rest. *What has happened?*

*Akrotia has come to the islands, Shelly.* Tailwalker’s motions were jerky; there was true fear in him, fear like she had never seen. *It called up fire from the earth and burned the seamage’s home.*

*Burned it?* Farsee asked, his hue paling. *The whole island?*

*More than one island,* Chaser put in, his own signing as choppy and agitated as Tailwalker’s. *We tried to trap it with iron hooks and augers, but it called the burning rock right down into the water, and the ironweed cables broke.*

*It’s coming north, Shelly,* Tailwalker interjected. *Father and the rest of the school are following it, along with five of the landwalkers’ warships. They will try to fight it if they can.*

*I don’t understand. Why is it coming north? Why burn the seamage’s island?*

*Seamage Flaxal Brelak told me that the firemage she helped was taken by Akrotia. That is why the city burns. Perhaps he is angry with her for what happened. We don’t know. But Father sent us to tell her what has happened. How can we contact her?*

*I don’t know.* She thought about it, and shrugged. *We don’t know where they took her, but there were landwalker soldiers everywhere, and we could not see her.*

Tailwalker paled at the news. *This is not good. If they have imprisoned her, how will she even know we need to sign to her?*

*We can make ourselves seen, and hope that they tell her,* Chaser suggested. *At Akrotia, I leapt onto a ship to warn them of the myxine attack. They were frightened at first, but finally understood.*

*I think they would just shoot you full of arrows.* Farsee flattened his fins in disapproval. *They are not familiar with mer here, and I do not think they like us.*

*If we jump high and do flips like dolphins, maybe they won’t think we’re dangerous.* Tailwalker grabbed Shelly’s hand and tugged. *We can do it in the middle of the harbor, where their arrows can’t reach us. Come on!*

Farsee looked at her, his eyes wide with worry, but her brother and Chaser were already flipping their tails, so Shelly just shrugged and followed. Maybe Tailwalker was right, and they could get the landwalkers’ attention without getting killed, but she didn’t trust these city dwellers. There were too many soldiers. She feared they would only draw unwanted attention, or even an attack, by showing themselves in the harbor. But she knew that Tailwalker would try his plan even if she did not go along with it. She would not let him think her a coward. Better that she stay with him, just in case there was trouble.

≈

“Very good doing business with you, Master Torek.” The financier stood from behind his expansive desk and extended his hand with a broad smile. Parek smiled back and shook it. The man had come highly recommended, with a reputation for discretion. If you had enough money, he could get whatever you wanted, be it a new identity, a noble title, or items of more illicit nature. “With the sale of your ship and the funds you have already deposited, you have quite a nest egg.”

“Thank you, Master Trifold.” Parek squeezed the man’s limp hand, enjoying how the fat banker’s smile faltered. “Yes, my recent endeavors have paid off nicely for
both
of us. I trust that your continued discretion is assured by your commission.”

“Most
thoroughly
assured, Master Torek.” The financier recovered his hand and his smile.

He bloody well better smile,
Parek thought, straightening his new velvet doublet and recovering a long mahogany box from the table beside the door. Inside, Bloodwind’s gold-hilted cutlass rested on a bed of velvet. Other than the two coffers of select gems and baubles that he had put aside for himself and Camilla, it was the only bit of the treasure that he had kept for himself. Not only because it was such a fine weapon, but as a tribute to his mentor. He couldn’t wear it in public in the city yet, but that would change. The rest of his possessions, down to the last stitch of his old clothing, had been sold or destroyed. He was now Master Torek, soon to be
Lord
Torek, if his petition to purchase the title was approved, then he could wear the sword with pride. All thanks to the rotund Master Trifold...for a mere tenth of the hoard’s worth.

It was worth it, but only if the financier kept his mouth shut.

“Excellent.” Parek reached for the door’s brass knob, but then turned back, raising a finger as if a notion had just occurred to him. He had, in fact, planned this conversation very carefully. “There is one other thing that you might be able to help me with. I find myself in the need of a more reputable place to live. The Barony Arms is a fine establishment, but I desire something more permanent. A town house, perhaps. Something on the hill.”

“Lease or purchase?” Trifold asked, his eyes glinting with the prospect of another commission.

“Lease, I think. Something elegant and comfortable, but not ostentatious; a place where I would be able to entertain guests.” He smiled at the financier, eying him with intent. “I feel that we have a good working relationship. Can I trust your judgment in this?”

“Of course, of course! I have just the broker in mind. There are always places for lease.” He scratched a note on a bit of parchment and nodded. “I’ll make some discreet inquiries and have a list of potential properties sent to you at The Arms this evening.”

“Excellent!” Parek put his hand on the door’s knob, then turned back to the financier with one last instruction. “Please deliver the list personally, Master Trifold. You may join me for drinks in the hotel’s dining room this evening. We will toast our continued profitable, and discreet, relationship.”

“I will be there, Master Torek!”

“Very good!” He turned the knob and left the man’s private office without another glance back, satisfied that he had the financier under perfect control. After all, the man had far too much to lose if he betrayed the trust of such a valued customer.

≈

Too soon for Camilla,
Cape Storm
arrived in Tsing. She clutched Emil’s hand, resisting his pull as he led her out into the late afternoon sun. The deck was crowded, and she cringed as the voices of sailors and marines rose all around her. She felt like they were talking about her—the woman who drank blood—though Emil had assured her that only a handful of people knew what she had been, and none would ever reveal her secret.

So many people
… she thought.
So many heartbeats
…

“Lady Camilla.” Captain Donnely stepped into their path, and she forced herself to raise her eyes to his. He was smiling at her. “I’m glad to see you up and about, and may I say, you look wonderful in that gown.”

She blushed. “Thank you, Captain. I find myself in your debt for this gift…and for my life.” Emil had told her that Huffington and Tim had been passing stories around the ship, praising the captain and his marines for their part in saving her life. The goodwill helped to quash any rumors about what might have been seen during the battle. As a consequence, however, they seemed to have taken a personal stake in her wellbeing, Donnely more so than anyone. “I fear that I can never repay you.”

“Seeing you hale and happy is payment enough,” he said with a bow. Behind him, a line of officers stood at attention, all beaming at her proudly. “Now I must relieve you of Count Norris’ company so we may attend the emperor.”

“You’re leaving me?” Camilla clutched Emil’s arm until her knuckles went white. Emil had been at her side constantly, and she had come to depend on him. She knew that eventually she would have to rely on herself, but right now, she still didn’t trust herself alone in a crowd. What if something happened? “Can’t we stay together, Emil? You said we’d go to your home.”

“Huffington and Tim will accompany you to the house, my dear,” he assured her, patting her hand. “I must report to the emperor. It’s my duty.”

Camilla glanced dubiously at the pair behind them. Huffington still wore a bandage on his head, though he had donned a hat to cover it. Tim hung over the rail, gazing wide-eyed at dolphins jumping wildly out in the middle of the harbor.

“Can’t we all go with you?” she suggested, unwilling to be put off. “If we’re not allowed in the palace, we can stay outside.”

“Actually, milord,” Huffington interrupted, “I need to deliver a message of my own to the palace. Then Tim and I can look after Lady Camilla while you speak to the emperor.”

Emil turned to Captain Donnely. “Is there room for five in the carriage?”

“I can ride on top with the driver!” Tim offered before the captain could even open his mouth.

“Of course,” Donnely said, bowing to Camilla. “I would be honored by your company, Lady Camilla.” He gestured for them to follow him down the gangplank.

“Thank you, Captain.” She smiled at him gratefully, then squeezed Emil’s arm in thanks.

As they walked down the pier, Camilla spied a crowd along the quay wall, shouting and pointing toward them, and her knees trembled. Were they pointing at her? Did they know? They would take her, and she was powerless to stop them! She balked, dragging on Emil’s arm, clutching him so hard that her nails threatened to pierce the sleeve of his jacket.

“Camilla? Are you all right?” His voice was soft and concerned as he touched her hand, though she knew she must be hurting him.

“I can’t…” She looked at him, but her vision blurred with tears as fears, old and new, closed in around her.

“I remember this, Father!” Tim interrupted, his face split in a wide grin. “The waterfront! I remember it! We used to come here and look at the ships! And the market, the big one with all the little tents, is just over there!”

“You remember?” Emil asked excitedly, his attention shifting from her. “All of it?”

“Not everything, but I remember the house, and the palace, and the bazaar, and the little place where we used to go for breakfast that had eggs cooked in little cups of pastry.” He pointed and laughed, grasping her free hand. “And that’s the shipyard! Oh, Miss Cammy, you’re going to
love
it here!”

Tim’s effervescent mood broke the chains of her fear. She had forgotten that he had been born here, and how wonderful it must be for him to be coming home.
I have no home,
she thought. She had been born in Southaven, but had lived most of her life on Plume Isle. Although Cynthia had made her welcome, Camilla had never felt quite comfortable there; the memories were too painful.

“I can’t wait to show you everything!” Tim said, squeezing her hand, fairly bursting with enthusiasm.

“I’m sure I’ll love it, Tim,” she said, and even as the words left her mouth, she realized that
this
was her home now. Not the city in particular, but wherever Emil and Tim were. They were her family, and home was with them. She squeezed his hand back and smiled. “Thank you.”

Swallowing her fear, she walked with them to the carriage. She realized that the crowd wasn’t interested in her, but were here to welcome back the sailors and marines.

The ride to the palace was unpleasant: noisy, smelly, and hot, even with the light evening breeze. Camilla sat close to Emil, glancing out the window, amazed that so many people could live in such close proximity. She kept a firm hold on his hand, and tried not to think of the teeming masses of people.

Her apprehension renewed when the carriage clattered through an immense gate. The palace courtyard would have accommodated the entire shipyard of Plume Isle. A uniformed attendant opened the carriage door and proffered a satin-gloved hand. She was reluctant to release Emil’s, but at his urging, she accepted the help and stepped down. The grandeur of the palace was overwhelming; never had she seen such splendor.

“I remember this, too!” Tim said, hopping down from the driver’s seat. “I’ve been here!”

“Many times, Tim,” Emil said, taking Camilla’s hand once again, though his attention was on his son. “You’ve even met the emperor once or twice, and his sons many times.”

“Corryn and Arlyn,” Tim said, eyes widening. “The princes’ names are Corryn and Arlyn!”

“Correct. You used to come here and play in the gardens with them on special occasions. I believe you were last here for Corryn’s tenth birthday celebration.”

“There was a white horse. A gift from the emperor. We all rode it!” Tim’s voice had taken on a whimsical note. “It didn’t like me.”

“As I remember, it was a pony, and the vile little beast didn’t like anyone.” Emil laughed as they were ushered up the carpeted steps into the palace. He was obviously at ease here, but Camilla’s fear remained a shadow in her mind.

Tim pointed and commented as they were led by the satin-gloved attendant through the halls of the palace. It was a surprisingly busy place, with courtiers and nobles walking about in astonishingly beautiful dress. They passed a room where courtiers sat at tables, chatting, drinking and playing various games. A couple exited the room, and stopped to greet Count Norris. Camilla stared at them, so beautiful and graceful. She curtsied as Emil introduced her, and managed a faint smile. Despite the beautiful dress she wore, after so long without a proper bath and nothing to fix her hair with, she knew she must look dreadful. The fear and vulnerability began to surface again, and she fought it down. Surely she was safe here.

Finally, their escort showed them into an elegantly decorated sitting room, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a wide lawn. An attendant placed a salver of treats on the low table. Another brought a tray with a cut-crystal carafe full of honey-hued wine, and matching goblets.

“His Majesty will see you shortly, Count Norris. Captain Donnely, if you please would follow me.”

“Right.” Donnely turned to Camilla. “My lady.” He astonished her by taking her hand and bowing over it, his lips brushing her knuckles. He smiled warmly as he stood back. “I hope we will meet again. If you ever need my services, don’t hesitate to ask.”