The Huntsman's Amulet (17 page)

Chapter 25

The Last Bastion

S
oren woke just as
the sun broke the horizon. He was swinging gently from side to side in a hammock, and at first he thought he was back on board the
Honest Christophe
and that everything else had been a vivid nightmare. As his sense returned, he remembered being loaded onto the cart in the jungle clearing.

He struggled against the shifting cloth of the hammock to sit up, and took a look around. The hammock was hanging from the roof of a covered porch at the front of a house in a small town. He could see the water over the rooftops and several ships at anchor out in the bay. The town was nestled between the sea and the jungle covered hills that surrounded the bay.

It was quiet. The day had not yet begun for the town’s inhabitants and there were only a few people and animals shuffling about.

‘You’re awake.’ Ramiro walked out of the house, accompanied by two other men.

‘Where am I?’ Soren said.

‘You’re in Valkdorf, and I am Captain Ramiro Qai. You are?’

‘Banneret Soren.’

‘Well, Banneret Soren, I didn’t have the chance to thank you for your help in the jungle before you took your little turn. Things looked very bad for us until you joined in.’

Soren slipped out of the hammock and stood a little unsteadily. ‘Valkdorf? Is that Ventish? Ruripathian?’

‘Ruripathian,’ Ramiro said. ‘One of the few places that can still be called that from what I hear. This is one of their colonies, although I am given to believe that once the Governor has confirmation that the principality is no more, he’ll declare himself Bayda of an independent island. That he’s waited so long is something of a surprise.’

‘I’ve not had news of the war in some time,’ Soren said. ‘Ruripathia is losing?’

Ramiro nodded his head.

‘Did you get Sancho Rui?’

Ramiro smiled. ‘Rui? No, we didn’t go after him. Not today at least. As you were one of Rui’s captives I could technically lay claim to you as being my property, but considering the service you’ve done me I won’t make that claim. You’re free to go.

‘However,’ Ramiro said, ‘I’d ask you to give consideration to a proposal. I can always find a use for men as handy with a sword as you are. I’d be happy for you to join my crew. It’s a good offer, so do not dismiss it lightly.’

‘Your crew? You’re a pirate?’

Ramiro and his men all laughed. ‘Gentleman of the sea, but yes, I suppose you could call me that.’

Soren had no reason to believe that Ramiro was of a similar character to Sancho Rui, but had no interest in finding out.

‘Thank you, but no,’ Soren said. ‘I’d like to get back to the mainland.’

‘I suspected that might be your answer. You should have no difficulty in finding a ship to take you back, although it might take a week or two. The tavern, over there on the main square.’ He pointed toward the other side of the town. ‘Most captains will visit it when they are here. That’s the best place to find a ship. You’ll find lodging there too.’

‘Thank you for your help,’ Soren said. He turned and started toward the tavern. He had only gone a few paces when Ramiro shouted at him.

Soren stopped.

Ramiro tossed a small coin pouch to him, and doffed his faded brown, wide brimmed hat. ‘You have my thanks also. Your share of the plunder!’ he said, gesturing to the pouch he had just thrown.

The other men laughed.

‘If you change your mind, you know where to find me,’ Ramiro shouted.

Soren nodded. As he walked, he took a look around. A solid looking, large stone building sat up on the hill a short way out of town. It was painted white, standing out from the green vegetation all around it.

The town square fronted onto the wharf, and was the only part of the town that he had seen so far to be cobbled. A number of larger, official looking buildings sat on the edge of the square, along with several warehouses closer to the shore.

The sun was above the hilltop as Soren walked across the square, and the air was warming rapidly. The gentle breeze was pleasant, carrying with it the unique fragrant quality that the Isles were known for.

Out of sight of Ramiro, Soren took a look in the little coin pouch. There were a few gold crowns inside; enough to allow Soren take a room in the tavern until he could find a ship to bring him to the mainland.

Chapter 26

A Chance Encounter

S
oren was greeted by
the fantastic smell of cooking food, and it reminded him of how hungry he was. It had been far too long since he last had a decent meal, and his mouth watered at the thought. He sat at the bar and waited for the tavern keeper to take his order, a large plate of sausages and eggs.

As he waited for his food, Soren looked around. After the bright warm sunlight outside, the tavern was cool and dim. There were a couple of men sitting at tables. Soren thought about Sancho Rui, and his sword and dagger. He wanted them back, but didn’t see a way to get them. He could spend years chasing Rui around the sea without ever finding him. He could stay there to seek the pirate out in the hope of recovering his sword or return to Auracia to continue practicing the Gift and preparing for his revenge on Amero. It hurt to give up on his weapons, but he had higher priorities.

Hunger certainly made for the best sauce and he made short work of the large plate of food when it arrived. He ordered a second plate as another man walked into the tavern. He also sat at the bar and struck up a conversation with the barkeeper. Soren recognised the man’s accent as Ruripathian.

There was something else that seemed familiar about his voice. Soren didn’t want to draw attention to himself, so he tried to look at the man out of the corner of his eye. The Ruripathian was tall and slender with black hair tied back from his face, with a neatly trimmed moustache pointed at the ends, after the popular Ruripathian fashion.

On the occasion of their previous meeting the man had styled his facial hair differently, but Soren recognised him.

His name was Rodolfo Varrisher and he was one of a breed of merchant captains that were peculiar to Ruripathia. The seas around Ruripathia froze every winter and the challenge of bringing out the first and last cargoes each year had become a sport. When Soren was in Ruripathia, Captain Varrisher was fêted as the champion of dodging the sea ice. It was a position of some celebrity and the fame had gone to Varrisher’s head. Soren remembered him as being obnoxious and arrogant and they had even come to blows. It was an acquaintance that Soren had no desire to remake.

Soren was faced with the difficult choice of finishing his second plate of sausages and eggs or leaving in order to avoid being seen by Captain Varrisher. The food won out and he hoped that as long as he remained hunched over his plate and kept to himself he could remain unnoticed. It had been some time since they had seen one another, and Soren’s appearance was considerably different. He was scrawny, scruffy and filthy and far removed from how he had looked when he had been in Ruripathia, a well dressed, well fed Academy student with the world at his feet.

Varrisher turned his back to the bar and surveyed the taproom of the tavern. His gaze stopped on Soren, who willed himself to sink into the wooden bar counter.

‘I know you, don’t I?’ Varrisher said.

Soren stopped mid-chew. It seemed his hopes were not to be realised.

‘I don’t think so, no,’ Soren said. He kept looking ahead, hoping that if he avoided eye contact Varrisher might just leave him alone.

‘No, I do. I’m sure of it. I’m Varrisher, Rodolfo Varrisher. We met once, at the Royal Palace in Brixen, three years ago or so as I recall. You’re Tyro Soren, or were, you must be a banneret by now. I’m right, am I not?’

Seeing no reason to prolong what was clearly a futile subterfuge, Soren decided to come clean. ‘Ah yes, I remember now. How are you?’

‘I’ve been better to be honest, as appears to be the case for you too,’ Varrisher said. ‘The last time we met you were under the patronage of Duke Amero. I presume that’s no longer the case?’

‘No,’ Soren said, ‘we decided to go our separate ways.’ He wondered if Varrisher would leave him alone if he was as rude and unforthcoming as he could be. He tried not to get his hopes up again.

‘Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard, I expect I’m the one bringing the news to the island, but Amero, the “Tyrant of Ostia” as he’s being called now, is also master of Ruripathia,’ Varrisher said.

This caught Soren’s attention. ‘Brixen’s fallen?’

‘Yes, two months past,’ Varrisher said. He sounded dejected. There was none of the haughty arrogance that Soren remembered.

‘The Royal Family?’ Soren said.

While in Ruripathia, he had struck up a friendship with Princess Alys, the daughter of Prince Siegar, the hereditary ruler of Ruripathia. He hoped that she was safe, but if she had fallen into Amero’s control, that was unlikely.

‘I’m afraid I don’t know,’ Varrisher said. ‘I was at sea when the war started. By the time I returned home the Ostians had blocked access to our ports. I tried running the blockade a few times, but our fleet had been defeated by then and there was little I could do; mine is not a warship, not for that type of fighting anyway. I carried dispatches to Venter seeking help, but they were unwilling, as were the Humberlanders, the Mirabayans and the Estranzans. No one wants to stand against Amero when he’s not knocking on their front door.’

The conversation had already gone farther than Soren would have liked. He was sorry for what had happened in Ruripathia, and hated to think something bad had happened to Alys, but they all had their own problems, and Soren wasn’t interested in hearing Varrisher’s.

‘When I got to Estranza, word had already arrived that Brixen had fallen. There didn’t seem to be any point in going back, so I came here instead. My plan is to load up with spices once I’ve got some money together, take it back to the mainland — Venter probably — and try to set up my own trading company.’

‘How long have you been here?’ Soren said.

‘On and off for a few weeks. You?’

‘Just arrived.’

‘I offered my services to the Governor when I first got here, but he seems to have plans of his own. When the war started all of our naval vessels were called back north, which left the Governor with a pirate problem. He seems to have negotiated a deal with one of them, which takes care of that. He doesn’t want to upset things, so my ship and I are surplus to requirements. I was hoping to get work as a pirate hunter here to build up funds for my spice trading plans. No luck.’

Varrisher was being far friendlier than during their previous acquaintance, which came as a surprise. There hadn’t been one boast or one slight against Soren in their conversation so far. It occurred to him that perhaps, despite his dislike of Varrisher, the man was just pleased to see a familiar face from a home and time that was now lost to him.

‘You know, I feel I should apologise to you. I didn’t behave well the last time we met.’

Soren had to control himself not to react with visible surprise.

‘I won’t make an excuse for my behaviour, but I’d only begun to establish myself as a captain and perhaps I was trying too hard to find a place for myself in court. It’d been going well enough, but when you arrived, I was quickly forgotten. I took that out on you at the time but I realised later that the court’s interest flitted from novelty to novelty as often as the tide turns. After you it was someone else, and someone else after them. I’d just been the novelty of the day before you arrived, and in my naivety I thought that would last. So, please accept my apology,’ Varrisher said.

Surprise compounded surprise. Soren had put up with barbs from Varrisher during his time at the Ruripathian court in Brixen. Their brief acquaintance had culminated in what had been described at the time as a friendly demonstration of differing techniques of swordplay, but had in reality been a duel that had descended into less than friendly behaviour. Soren had come out of it the better, but the apology seemed sincere.

‘Apology accepted. Please also accept my apology for the part that I played,’ Soren said.

‘Excellent. It’s all water under the bridge anyway, and now here we are sitting miles from home in a sweaty little shithole of a town. If it were later in the day, I’d drink to it!’

Soren couldn’t help but laugh. Varrisher was right. The lives that both of them had seemed destined for when they had met previously were irreparably lost to them.

‘Not quite where I expected to end up, but here we are,’ Soren said.

‘Well, I’ve told you my tale of woe, what misfortune brings you to Valkdorf?’ Varrisher said.

Soren launched into an abridged version of the past few weeks, leaving out his visit to the Shrouded Isles and focussed on the events after the storm.

‘It’s interesting that you should mention Sancho Rui. What did you make of him?’ Varrisher said.

‘Arrogant, vicious, not as brave as he’d have you think. He murdered some good men from the ship I was on. Stole my sword. I’d very much like to have another meeting with him on more equal terms, but that’s not realistic.’

Varrisher nodded. ‘What are your plans now?’

‘I’m going to try to find a ship that’s headed for the mainland. The sooner the better,’ Soren said.

‘Rui’s prohibited from landing on this island, which is the reason for the argument you got caught up in. Ramiro Qai made an exclusive agreement with the Governor and got all the other pirates to abide by it. The Governor turns a blind eye to Ramiro basing himself here and Ramiro doesn’t harass the local trade. Anyone else gets their plunder confiscated if they’re caught. It’s the closest island to the mainland in the east, so it’s always been a popular spot for the pirates.’

‘Why’s that?’ Soren felt churlish for his earlier behaviour and wanted to try to make more of an effort.

‘Ruripathia was never as hostile to pirates and their trade as other countries, so there are always plenty of buyers here for their plunder.’

‘Rui and Qai both talked about “the Accords”,’ Soren said.

‘After the Governor made his agreement with Qai, there was danger of a pirate war, so they sat down and signed accords that carved up the Isles between them, formed an organisation called the “Conclave”, a guild for pirates. They’re all allowed to stop here for water, but nothing more. How long ago did you see Rui?’

‘A few hours at most, I can’t say for sure.’ Soren didn’t want to mention the fact that he’d been unconscious.

Varrisher thought for a moment. ‘Sancho Rui’s been upsetting the order of things here lately and there’ve been rumours that trouble would flare up again. A few months ago he captured a Shandahari ship, the
Gandawai
, that was on its way to Kirek in Shandahar. It was carrying a Shandahari princess and her wedding dowry. An absolute fortune in gold and jewels that boggles the mind. It’s the biggest haul that anyone’s ever heard of, and it’s given Rui the wealth to start trying to muscle the other pirates off their territory.’

‘Well, I hope they kill him. He’s murdering scum and the fewer there are of his kind in the world, the better.’

‘The Shandahari aren’t too happy with him either. I’ve just come back from Shandahar myself,’ Varrisher said. ‘The Khagan of Kirek, the one meant to be marrying the princess, or “rala” as they’re called there, has offered a bounty on Rui’s head. A big one. I mean to claim it. It’s big enough for me to buy a trade concession here in the Isles, fill my hold full of spice and sell it all for a fortune when I get to Venter. My lads are re-victualing my ship,
Typhon
, now and we set sail to hunt down Rui as soon as she’s ready. With what you’ve told me, it sounds like we’re closer to his trail than I’d hoped.’

‘Good luck with it,’ Soren said, suspecting that Varrisher had something more in mind.

‘I could always use someone as good with a sword as you are. There’d be a share of the bounty in it for you, and after we have him, I’ll drop you off at any port around the Middle Sea that you choose, with your sword safely back on your belt, of course. What do you say?’