The Shasht War (54 page)

Thru lowered the small boat to the water and then paddled across to the wharf of the Ram and Two Barrels. As far as he could tell, no one was watching his approach and without challenge he slid beneath the wharf. He tied the boat to one of the forest of support poles.

The cold water below stank, fouled by the city. The only sounds were the lapping of the waves against the seawall nearby and the throb of the drums across the water.

He climbed up onto the wharf and crouched there, listening. The wharf was twenty-five feet wide, and extended about two hundred feet out into the water. It was much like the wharves to either side.

Single-story warehouses were built on top of the wharves, each twenty-feet wide and forty long. Their doors were stoutly built and locked. At the end of the wharf, two guards were posted beside a brazier. Thru moved closer along the outer edge of the dock, a narrow space with no rail. From behind the warehouse closest to land he could see the guards sharing a pitcher of beer. A dog was asleep behind the guard post.

Thru moved quietly back along the wharf to the warehouse farthest from the guards. Using the handle of his knife, he tapped out the tune to "The Jolly Beekeeper" on the wall and then listened carefully.

Nothing but the distant sounds of the carnival disturbed the night. A huge fire had been built up on the Grand Plaza by the dockside. Even here, miles to the north, it cast a ruddy light.

He moved around to the far side of the warehouse and tried again.

"For who would be a beekeeper and suffer all those stings!" Still no response.

He moved across the narrow alley to the middle warehouse and tapped again. Still nothing. Then he turned his head, certain he'd heard something, but it was not repeated. He listened hard to his surroundings. Had it been a sound from someone creeping up on him?

He ventured a peek around the corner up toward the gate. The guards were still swilling from their jug. The dog slept on.

He went back along the alley, then around the back of the warehouse, on the narrow walk above the water. Once again, he crouched down and tapped out the tune of the Jolly Beekeeper.

He strained his ears to catch something, anything in response. But no knock came. So, after a minute, he went on to the far side, between the buildings. He almost didn't bother with knocking again on the middle one, but something nagged at him, and at the last moment he crouched down and tapped again.

Da Da da da da dadada da da dada da da...

Silence. And then he heard a faint knock. He sucked in a breath and listened more carefully than ever. There it was—a knock! And then another knock, and he knew that someone inside was knocking out the same refrain.

He waited, then he knocked once more and listened.

The response came again.

Thru stood up. He'd found them. Getting to them was going to be the next big problem. The door was securely locked with three separate locks. To get to the door was impossible without attracting attention. It was in plain view of the guards. And the dog only a hundred feet away.

He surveyed the back of the structure. No weaknesses revealed themselves. The walls were solidly built of bamboo for its lightness, but then covered in a hard shell of plaster. To break them would make considerable noise. No obvious openings presented themselves, either. The roof was well constructed, to break in that way would also draw attention.

After a moment's thought he tapped again on the wall, reaching up to tap once, then tapping at waist height, and then bending down to tap again near the base.

A moment later he swung himself out over the cold, filthy water and climbed down the side of the wharf. He was in view of the men at the guard post, but their attention was riveted to the far-off fire and the dancing multitudes.

Underneath he progressed hand to hand until he reached the pole that the boat was fastened to and slid down into the boat. Carefully he loosed the line and pushed the boat farther into the gloom beneath the wharf. After going perhaps fifteen feet, he stopped, tied the boat around another pole and shimmied up it to the juncture with the base of the wharf.

The wharf was made of wrist-thick bamboo poles woven together to make a strong, light lattice. On top of that rested the wooden decking and then the warehouse walls.

He reached up to the underside of the bamboo. Several layers had rotted and decayed. He was even able to break a pole and drag it down a couple of feet.

Reaching up he pounded on the underside with his fist.

An immediate response came. As he listened, he heard the sounds farther and farther away. They were trying to draw him on. He returned to the boat and pushed on, even farther into the Stygian darkness. Again he tied up and climbed the pole. Again he thumped the bamboo matting as hard as he could.

Suddenly, he heard a splintering sound just behind his head. He turned, almost lost his grip on the pole, and saw a piece of bamboo the length of his forearm break and hang down under the wharf.

A hand came down through the narrow gap.

"Food?" said the voice, edged with desperation.

"No. Sorry, just me, Thru."

"Thru?"

The hand withdrew.

More bamboo cracked as it was broken and forced downward. A face showed in the gap.

A big hand came out to grip his own. He felt that rough kob skin.

"Ter-Saab! Good to see you, my friend."

"Thru! By the Spirit, but this is a miracle! We thought you were dead. You were running at the back of the line, we thought the priests had taken you."

"Is it really, you, Thru?" said another voice.

"Juf Goost, you old devil. I knew you'd still be alive."

"It is a miracle," said Juf's voice. Others were talking all at once in the space above.

"Listen," said Thru. "The big festival starts tomorrow. We need to get you out of there tonight so we can sail on the tide."

"You have a ship?"

"Close by."

"How can we get out?" said Juf.

"Right through the floor there, like you're already doing."

"We'll have to lever up another floor board," said Ter-Saab.

"Jevvi is very weak, we'll have to lower him down to the boat."

"We've had no food in several days," said Ter-Saab.

"I understand. Well, if this will help, we have plenty of food on the ship. Once we get on board, we'll get you something to eat."

"You've got all our bellies rumbling now," said Ter-Saab.

They now worked to widen the gap. More bamboo broke off, one piece fell to the water, and Thru cautioned them to be careful; there was a dog close by. Bamboo was pulled up, broken as quietly as possible, and stacked inside the warehouse.

Now one at a time they climbed down, swung onto the pole with Thru's help, and then climbed down the pole to the boat. It was arduous work, and Pern Glazen was only barely able to make the climb down to the boat. He and Goost took up position in the boat now, while Ter-Saab and Janbur lowered the unconscious Jevvi Panst through the gap on a line warped together from packing bales stolen from the warehouse.

Thru helped guide Panst's comatose form down, and Juf Goost took hold and pulled him into the boat.

Thru could see that the little boat was already full up. Now Janbur came down. He had lost a great deal of weight... Thru helped him get a grip on the pole.

"I thought we were done for," said the man, in muttered Shashti.

"So did I, on several occasions, but the Spirit moves in us, I am convinced."

"Well, I give thanks for that Spirit."

After Janbur came Ter-Saab. Finally Thru.

The boat was sunk within a few inches of the surface. It hardly responded to the paddle. Slowly, cautiously they pushed out through the poles supporting the wharf and into the open water.

Thru oriented himself by the huge blaze down on the plaza.

Suddenly, someone squeezed his arm.

"Look there, a light!"

With a lamp raised at the prow, Red Tops rowed a cutter down the lines of vessels in the harbor. When they came to the
Sea Wasp
, they knocked on the ship's hull to get the crew's attention.

Mentu leaned over to ask them what they wanted. The whole harbor was lit up in the red glow from the fires on the plaza.

"We search for the enemies of the Great God, what else?" roared a bull-necked Red Top in the cutter.

"Ah, well, good luck to you," replied the Eccentric.

"So, what is your business here in Shasht harbor?" said the Red Top.

Mentu leaned over the side again.

"We need to hire some more crew, then we sail to the spice isles."

"And what port did you say you hail from?"

"Gzia Gi, this is
Sea Wasp
."

"Have you registered with the harbormaster?"

"The captain is ashore now, he planned to do that."

"If we find you are unregistered, we will have to come back and search the ship."

"Of course, of course, I understand."

"Have you given to the collections for the Great God?"

"I believe the captain intended to leave our contributions with the priests."

"I hope you gave generously."

"When you sail the oceans, you come to understand the need for the protection of the Great God."

"That is proper thinking. May He continue to guide you."

The Red Tops poled away, heading for the next ship along the line.

Mentu took a deep breath as he watched them go. The drums continued to rumble in the city.

Simona was crouched in the dark well of the cockpit. Her eyes seemed to glow.

"Congratulations, brother of the Emperor. I know he would be proud of you. Me, I'm amazed you could speak to them like that. I'd have trembled like a leaf."

"Thank you, young lady. I think my hands were shaking, actually, but they couldn't see."

"It's horrible to live in fear of them all the time."

"Yes."

Now they heard the bull-necked Red Top hail the next ship in the line.

"Your brother dreamed of destroying their power."

"I know. He was never much of a believer in the Great God."

They were interrupted by a rasping voice behind them.

"Have they gone? The redheaded devils?"

Yomafin stood there, wild eyed, his mouth working, having climbed to the cockpit atop the stern-castle.

"They have, friend Yomafin."

"Then we must be gone as well."

"We will be gone, very soon," said Mentu.

"No, now. Drop the sails, turn the boat, let us sail away while we still have our lives. Before they come back."

"Very soon, Yomafin."

"No. Now."

"We can't leave yet, not while Thru is still out there."

"Leave the monkey, it is but a freakish animal. Let the Red Tops take the monkey."

"No, Yomafin, Thru is my friend. You would dishonor us all. Thru is a very important person in this world; he forms a bridge between our peoples."

"Bah, you speak in riddles. How can there be bridges to abomination? Don't you understand? Those Red Tops will ask at the harbor office about us. Then they will come back here with a dozen more of their kind, and they will take us all to the pyramid! Where will your precious honor be then?"

"We'll be gone by then, Yomafin."

"You risk everything! My life, my wife's life, my children. You must go now!"

Simona had heard enough.

"Be silent! We took you aboard, we gave you shelter. We gave you gold. We will leave as soon as Thru returns."

Yomafin whirled around on her, eyes wide with rage.

"How dare you speak to me like that. I am a man! You are but a woman in man's clothing. A woman with her womb shut up against men. A woman that lies with the furred demon!"

Yomafin's voice had risen.

"Quiet, Yomafin, they will hear you." Mentu leaned over the fish dealer as if to muffle his harsh words.

"Then do as I say," hissed the fish dealer. "Cut the lines and let us take ourselves out of this harbor, and away from these deadly dangers."

Simona's anger was simmering at Yomafin's words.

"You have no right to say such things," she began.

Yomafin snapped completely. "No woman speaks to me like that!" he snarled and hurled himself at her. Their bodies collided, and Simona was driven back into the cockpit, where her head struck the rail.

In a mixture of fury and fright she struck out, and her hand clipped him across the face. He uttered a foul curse and punched her in the belly. Simona felt the air go out of her lungs, and she doubled up. He took hold of her hair, yanked her out of the cockpit, and kicked her to the deck.

Dimly, lying curled up on the deck, she was aware that the two men were fighting above her. Blows and curses followed in profusion, and several times one or the other of them trod on her and she cried out.

Mentu swung and missed, and the pair of them tumbled down the steps into the waist of the ship. She pulled herself to her knees and saw Yomafin's wife emerge from the galley holding a long knife in her hand.

"No!" Simona got to her feet. "Mentu," she cried. She slid down the steps and landed in a heap throwing the woman off her stroke.

The men had hold of each other and struggled by the rail. If the Red Tops passed by now, they would see them fighting!

Mentu was the stronger of the two, and now he had hold of Yomafin around the neck and shoulder. He lifted him, swung him around, and shoved him hard against the mizzenmast.

Yomafin's wife stepped forward with the knife raised, Simona flung herself at the woman and slammed into her, driving her back against the galley door. They went down together in a tangle by the door to the galley. Simona tried to hold the woman's wrists, while she tried to bite Simona's hands. Fortunately her veils filled her mouth and got in the way.

Simona brought a knee up and rammed it into the woman's chest. Yomafin's wife gave a great heave with her hips, and Simona was thrown forward. The point of the knife jabbed into her breast.

They struggled there for a few moments, but Simona could not overcome the woman. The veils had been torn away, and Yomafin's wife's face was exposed, contorted in a snarl of rage.