Stormed Fortress (40 page)

Autumn 5671

Brangle

Two weeks out of Vhalzein, and hag-ridden by news that the siege had closed in at Alestron, the merchant brig
Evenstar
hove into the trade port of Thirdmark. There, her three-masted rig and furled canvas made her a looming albatross set down among bobbing gulls. Her ocean-going keel forced her to anchor outside of the jumbled stone breakwater that enclosed the town wharves, since the Mistwraith
'
s invasion reshaped the ancient patterns of commerce. The placid, cove harbour now catered to trade fleets of shallow-draught galleys. Even three decades after clear sky restored accurate navigation, the shoal-ridden narrows within Rockbay Harbor continued to favour oared vessels. Tight inlets and jagged shore-lines, compounded by swift-running currents, posed hazards few blue-water captains cared to attempt, under sail.

Evenstar
'
s
master prided herself on being the glaring exception.

From Vhalzein, she had run the estuary to Redburn to take on dispatch packets from Quaid, and to onload the spruce lumber preferred by the Southshire shipyards. Her next call, at Spire, picked up casks of beer, flour, and soda ash to be resold to the glassworks at Ithish. Outbound, and riding low on her marks, she had rounded the north point off the Isle of Myrkavia, a trial of seamanship that had snagged many lesser ships on a reef. At Firstmark, upcoast, she laid in wine and hides for the milk-run that fetched her this rolling, second-rate anchorage.

The charts of those treacherous waters were presently furled and shelved. Now, as the exhilaration of dicey handling subsided to restive fatigue, the news came in by pigeon from other points east that the Light
'
s vengeful war host had claimed its first casualties.

Worse, to Captain Feylind
'
s jaundiced eye, the
Evenstar
'
s
chart desk lay mired by mercantile trade. Landlubber
'
s paper-work, bruised by the officious ink stamps of the harbour-masters, and the fussier parchments, crusted with the seals and ribbons, preferred by the excisemen.

While the ship creaked and swung to the outbound tide,
Evenstar
'
s
master jammed her taut fingers through the straw hair at her temples.
'
Fatemaster
crap
on the scribblings of clerks!
'
Lading lists!
She hated them. Almost as much as the blow-hard authorities who imposed their port taxes and wharfage. Far-sighted, she squinted at the miserable squiggles that valued the brig
'
s current cargo.

'
Pirating bastards,
'
she muttered, irked by the inflated assessment placed on the spruce.

A shadow loomed overhead: the first mate, peering down through the quarter-deck hatchway. "That
'
s better. You
'
ve been much too quiet since hearing the scuttlebutt ashore.
'

Feylind
'
s return tirade would have shamed a fishwife. She added,
'
I don
'
t like the news, and you didn
'
t, either. Is that why you
'
ve made sure everything
'
s planned to a fare-thee-well in advance?
'

At Thirdmark, said the lists, she would take on goat cheese, and bone meal for the porcelain guild at Sanshevas. Ahead, the bursar
'
s needs were detailed for reprovisioning at Shandor. To make the stop pay, the brig would swap the cheese and some of the beer for board lengths of West Shandian oak. At Ithish, she would exchange her flour for baled wool bought raw from the shepherds of Vastmark, then that reeking load was bound on to the auctions that supplied the dyers at Innish.

'
We
'
re scheduled tight as the gears in a pinch-fisted shore factor
'
s clock!
'
Feylind groused.

The shadow solidified into a breathing, warm presence as the mate slung himself downwards into the stern cabin.
'
Damned right.
'
Teive approached from behind and folded her into a consuming embrace.
'
We
'
ve chased our own tail in these forsaken cold waters for too long.
'
His salt-crusted chin parked on top of her head, he added in gentle remonstrance,
'
In case you
'
ve forgotten? Our children are at Innish. Probably banging holes in the tiles of Fiark
'
s wife
'
s pretty kitchen. They miss you, too.
'

Which stinging line inferred her past night, spent pacing the deck under starlight.

Feylind swatted him off.
'
Your damned stubble itches.
'
She tipped up her head, accepted his kiss, then grabbed him, hard, and held on. Wrapped in the fusty smell of his sea jacket, she strove to subdue raw anxiety.

'
You don
'
t know that Prince Arithon will be drawn to Alestron,
'
Teive stated with maddening calm.

Feylind shivered.
'
We don
'
t know that he won
'
t.
'
She pursued,
'
He came for us when this ship was threatened, and s
'
Brydion have stood as his allies for years. You think his soft heart can deny them?
'

Something bumped, abovedeck. By the quartermaster
'
s haranguing tirade, the disturbance involved an inept longshoreman and the cask of grain alcohol just slung aboard for treatment of salt-water lesions.

'
You
'
d better go topside,
'
Feylind said, resigned.
'
Before some slacker thinks to straw-tap that barrel and suck himself rip-roaring prostrate.
'

Yet Teive was not diverted so easily. The crew can look after itself for the moment
'

Feylind stirred for sharp protest. He forestalled the attempt, cupped a weathered hand against her turned cheek, and captured her shove to release him. Then he tightened his hold, appalled as he sighted the paper-work on the desk-top.
'
You
'
re planning to contract our cargo out on consignment to another vessel bound into Innish? Feylind, why? If I allow this, your brother is certain to dice both my bollocks!
'

'
If you don
'
t agree, I
'
ll claw first,
'
threatened
Evenstar
'
s
captain, her tigerish mood turned defensive.

Teive had the experience to hear her distress. He fished the snagged loop of blond hair from his callus but did not release his embrace.
'
I won
'
t let you go until you tell everything.
'

'
When bulls give fresh milk and lay hen
'
s eggs!
'
Feylind wrenched herself free. Ever and always, Teive
'
s deep concern cracked her nettled rage and undid her. She leaned back, elbows braced on the traitorous documents.

'
We
'
ll provision at Shandor, well enough,
'
she relented.
'
But not keep this cargo. I
'
ll have nothing else loaded into our hold that
'
s not westbound round the cape.
'

The mate perched his sturdy frame on the chart locker, his grey eyes agleam with challenge.
'
You
'
d run back to Havish?
'
He caught the flicker of determination before she broke off his glance. Telmandir!
'
he corrected, appalled, as intuition unveiled her conniving.
'
You want to petition High King Eldir to send relief to the s
'
Brydion citadel?
'

'
Someone must.
'
Feylind was never frivolous. Her radical decisions always were framed by the logic of an off-shore navigator.

Teive tried and failed to suppress his sharp qualm. Practical, first, he shouted topside to clear off the
Evenstar
'
s
quarterdeck.
'
We don
'
t need to perk up the ears of the crew,
'
he told Feylind.
'
Yes, lady! We
'
re going to discuss this.
'

She folded her arms and glared back at him.

Which only moved Teive
'
s good nature to laughter.
'
You never bite half so well as you bristle. If you
'
re going to clam up, I
'
ll toss you in bed. That
'
s easier than sweating over the clues to your hare-brained habit of thinking.
'

'
No,
'
Feylind said.

The cabin between them seemed suddenly cold, beyond what the season should warrant. As the quiet stretched, loud with the creak of worked wood, and the wind-driven slap of snugged halyards, Teive sighed. He could be quite as stubborn.

'
What if I agree with you?
'
he suggested, dead calm.
'
That Arithon is a friend, and his s
'
Brydion allies might be in need of us. Why should
Evenstar
put in to Havish?
'

Feylind exploded and stood, as trust smashed her reticence.
'
Who else could go?
'
she exclaimed, her voice cracking.
'
If we
'
re going to smuggle supplies for Alestron, we can
'
t involve Fiark! The Light
'
s influence over the southshore towns would have priestly noses poked straight up our backside! Any one of a dozen corrupted officials could tip off the vengeance of the Alliance. King Eldir owes us twice over, after our help throughout last year
'
s famine. And unlike the other ships loyal to Arithon,
Evenstar
'
s
neutral registry can slip us past the curs at Kalesh and Adruin that watchdog the blockaded estuary.
'

Teive scraped his rough chin.
'
You think we could carry the pretence of bearing provender to Lysaer
'
s camped troops? Then signal, once we
'
re close enough to be recognized, and our hold
'
s contents to be overtaken by Alestron
'
s defenders?
'

'
Ath!
'
Feylind fetched him a cuff on the shoulder, then let him snag her back into his arms.
'
You know my mind much too well for a man who
'
s never been wed as a husband.
'

'
And whose fault is that?
'
Teive chuckled.
'
Not mine, wild woman.
'
Then he sobered.
'
You know by now that wherever you go, I intend to stick like a lamprey.
'

'
Including the teeth,
'
declared Feylind, unmoved.
'
I take it you
'
re crewing this tub west to Havish?
'

'
Especially with the teeth.
'
The mate bent his neck and nipped at her ear until she shrieked with ticklish outrage.
'
I am going to Havish,
'
he added, smug.
'
If only to see what High King Eldir will do when you land this whopper in his royal lap. That
'
s if his majesty will agree to allow a tramp captain the daylight for a crown audience.
'

Feylind grinned, then kissed Teive
'
s lips with a will to disrupt the dastardly paper-work.
'
King Eldir will hear me. It
'
s Fiark,
'
she murmured,
'
who
'
s going to need the threat of Dharkaron
'
s Black Chariot for softening.
'