The Voyage of the Unquiet Ice (44 page)

Dow noted the prow of the boat. It was long and black and sharp, extending some way underwater, and sited behind it on the boat's foredeck was a collection of barrel-shaped things, bound by ropes.

Dow had seen those barrels once before.

At full speed, the boat slammed into the battleship's side, the ram plunging deep and cruel into the vitals of the hull. The men on the boat, having braced themselves against the impact, now worked hurriedly at fittings near the prow, loosening them. In moments, the ram broke clean away from the rest of the craft, which proceeded, by the power of its mysterious propulsion, to reverse off from the ship, froth churning at its stern.

The ram was left embedded in the battleship's heart. But the hole it had made was not the worst it could do. For the barrels had remained behind with the ram, and they were now held hard up against the hull. Dow found he was counting under his breath. Any instant now—

Whump.

Fire roared up and out, engulfing the battleship's side.

‘Ha!' cried Johannes.

They could
win,
Dow thought wildly. This impossible fleet, with its impossible attack boats, might actually
beat
the Ship Kings! The battleship was a wall of flame now, veering away in a drift as flames roared up through its rigging. Men were diving overboard.

But then another flash caught Dow's eye, and this time it was one of the Twin Island ships that was suddenly roaring up, ablaze. It was under attack from three Ship Kings frigates, each thundering away with a kind of shot that was new to Dow – one that burst into flames upon contact, especially in the rigging. The Ship Kings too, it seemed, understood the power of fire.

Johannes was nodding, watching the same thing. ‘Aye, I thought they'd bring out the incendiary shot soon enough. The Ship Kings scarcely use it when they war with each other, for in those battles they want the other ship intact as a prize. But this is a battle to the death.'

‘Look!' cried Nicky, in rare voice, pointing.

Through the smoke, and much nearer to the
Twelfth
Kingdom,
a flotilla of the deadly boats had appeared, as dark and swift as sharks. There might have been ten in all, spread out line abreast.

They were advancing directly for the capital ship.

There came a frenzy of shouts along the gun deck, and a scramble among the gunners to lower their sights. A fusillade fired off, a rending thunder, and the waters about the boats shattered into white foam. Most of the shots were too high, but Dow saw a rake of grapeshot catch one of the boats squarely. The men on its narrow deck had little protection – only some framework about the wheel, amidships – and their bodies seem to writhe and fall apart in a horrible, invisible hail. The boat veered off its course, a flicker of flame appeared, and then, with a
whump,
the whole thing exploded.

But nine boats still came on. A second broadside swept the deck of another of them, and likewise annihilated its crew – Dow could only marvel at men who dared stand upright on such exposed platforms, with nothing but speed and agility to protect them – but then it was too late. The remaining eight boats, their line slightly staggered now, ploughed one by one into the
Twelfth Kingdom's
side.

Dow had leant from his window to see down to the waterline, twenty feet below, and the first of the attackers hit almost directly beneath him, with a thudding screech of metal and an awful splintering of wood and nicre. He waited only to witness the ram detaching and the boat withdrawing, then he ducked out of harm's way. The explosion when it came drowned out the cannon fire, and it was echoed by similar explosions all along the ship. Suddenly wounded men were screaming and fire was raging upon the gun deck.

The two marines shouted at Dow, furious at the delay – and they were right. It was more than time to depart. The
Twelfth Kingdom
was immune, perhaps, to sinking, but not to burning. Dow rose, and with Johannes and Nicky following, made for the hatchway and the stairs.

But where was Nell?

There. She was at the window Dow had just left, staring aghast at the carnage even as flames rose to block the view. She seemed paralysed, deaf to his shouts, so Dow ran to her, clutched her shoulder and spun her around. ‘The fire will take hold – we have to go!'

Her eyes could not seem to focus on him. ‘With the Twin Islanders? But they're the enemy. You're the enemy.'

‘Enemy or friend, we'll all burn! Come on!'

And dragging her by the arm, he led her down the stairs in pursuit of the others. Choking smoke billowed, and after the brightness of the fire they stumbled blindly in the lower passages. But Dow could hear Johannes shouting ahead, and eventually they reeled from the haze onto a narrow deck that was open to the grey pre-dawn light.

They had reached a strange part of the ship; a walkway that ran traversely, almost at water level, right across the
Twelfth Kingdom's
stern, giving access to the steering gear of the four great rudders. Hurrying along this walkway now between mighty chains and cables, they came at last to a platform that was sheltered between the central two of the rudders, and which reached down in stages to the waterline; the Sea Lord's private dock.

Such a landing place could not have existed on any normal ship, but the size and slowness of the
Twelfth
Kingdom
, and the placid waters of the Millpond, made it possible. They leapt down onto the platform, and ran to its edge. The dock boasted many rings and bollards to which a boat might be tied, but there were no boats. Dow stared out at the ocean. Would they have to swim for it? The din of the fire was rising from behind.

But the two marines had gone to a great set of doors that overlooked the landing. The doors were locked, but hammering at the bolts with their muskets, they soon managed to swing them open. Within lay a cavernous chamber – a boatshed. At its centre stood a large and canopied vessel that Dow could only assume was the royal launch. It was chained tightly to the floor, and there was no time to free it, but that didn't matter; on either hand were many smaller boats, cutters and the like, lying free.

In moments Dow and Johannes and Nicky had chosen one and dragged it down to the water. The two marines stood by uncertainly – but then there came an explosive roar from the decks above, and smoke belched down among the steering gear. That decided them. They took a second boat and slid it to the water in preparation for their own escape.

Nicky and Johannes were already aboard and running out the oars – but Nell, Dow saw, was hanging back again, staring up to the stern battlements that arched overhead here, their cannon firing still.

‘Nell!' he cried.

Johannes echoed him. ‘By all the seas, girl, hurry. Once we're away I can signal one of our ships – they'll know I'm a Twin Islander and pick us up. It's your only hope of escaping your own people.'

Nell turned then, a strange smile on her face. She said to Johannes, ‘But that's just it. They
are
my own people. And your people are
your
people, not mine. I'm their enemy. I can't go with you.'

‘You can't stay here!' Dow contended.

Her gaze was calm. ‘I won't. I'll go with the marines. We can escape the fire, and one of our own ships will pick us up eventually.'

‘But they'll be Valdez and Castille ships. You won't be safe with them. They're the ones who want you in prison.'

She took a step closer to him, earnest. ‘That's exactly why I can't go. I can't leave my own folk in the hands of fools like Carrasco and Ferdinand – especially now, if there's to be a war with the Twin Isles. There are still plenty of people who are loyal to the old order in their hearts. With their help I can make my way to a friendly refuge. Not Othrace – but Valignano maybe. I hear that Benito is in rebellion and has blockaded Haven Diaz, refusing to acknowledge the new regime. He'll take me in. And from there I can help spread the truth about what really happened – here, and in the Ice.'

It was reasoning that Dow could not dispute. What fate awaited her, after all, if she escaped with him into Twin Island custody? She was a Ship King, the very folk the Twin Islanders were attacking. What could they do but lock her away? And yet he had assumed so completely that she
would
come with him, he was shocked now by the bite of his disappointment.

He said, ‘Watch out for Diego. He won't be satisfied with what they did to you in the Lords. I saw his face. He still means you harm.'

‘And you. Me, he only wants shamed. You, he wants dead.' She smiled sadly. ‘Poor lonely Diego – I had no desire to hurt him, truly, but I just couldn't bind myself to him. Not after all I've seen.' Her smile faded, and she regarded Dow with the same disarming nakedness as during their time on the volcano. ‘You're the one to blame for that, Dow Amber. Diego will have wealth and command, yes, but what is any of that to me? It's only the sea I've ever craved, and he will never know the sea, no matter how long he sails upon it. Not in his heart. But you – the sea is open to you. It has chosen you.'

Dow found that his hands were on her face, and her hands were on his, pressing them to her scars.

‘See,' she said, ‘even now you are plucked yet again from captivity and threat of death – yet again, fate has revealed itseld. You are
important
, Dow Amber. You are marked in some way, and the fortunes of the world turn about you. As do my own, it seems.'

And all in a flash Dow felt it, as if he was a hub around which vast forces whirled, forces against which he was powerless himself and yet which filled him with power over others. He was aware suddenly of his own limbs, the strength of them, the readiness in them for the ordeals that lay ahead. He felt the same strength and readiness in Nell, as if they were fused together by their touch; the same power, the same importance …

A vision took shape, the future hovering just beyond Dow's sight, a shadow of two figures entwined at the centre; a twin focus, he and her, with lines of fate writhing about the two of them.

It was wonderful, and right. Ah, but there was darkness too, held in that future. And pain. And terrible grief.

A true scapegoat you will become …

Then the vision was gone.

He said, ‘We've both been marked, I think.'

Her hands tightened on his. ‘Time will tell – time, and this war that has just begun, for we will stand on opposite sides of it. But fate won't be cheated. If it's mean to
be
between us, then it's meant to be.'

Dow had to grin, but at the same time he lowered his hands – they had lingered long enough, it was time to flee. He turned away, then looked back. ‘
Poor
Diego? After what he did to you? That dress?'

The old fierceness flashed in her eyes. ‘Oh, he'll get his. By all that's afloat, I swear that much. But for now – go!'

Dow spun away again. With a leap he was aboard the boat, manning the tiller while Johannes and Nicky worked the oars.

They slid smoothly out between the great rudders. Glancing back, Dow saw that Nell was safely aboard with the marines, and that they too were pulling clear. But then a thick cloud of smoke rolled down from the
Twelfth
Kingdom
, and by the time it lifted again, the two boats were far apart, set off in opposite directions in search of their respective allies.

15. EBB TIDE

O
ut upon the Millpond the battle was all but done. Everywhere ships were burning or sinking amid the bitter smoke, and the survivors were limping apart, exhausted. In any case, further fighting was meaningless, now that the
Twelfth Kingdom
itself was in flames.

The great vessel was doomed, that much was obvious to Dow as soon as they had rowed far enough out to look back at it properly. Most of its stern quarter was already engulfed. On the lower decks flames were streaming out from hundreds of gun ports in hungry tongues that licked fifty feet high, and on the main deck the stern masts had ignited and all their sails and rigging were writhing in vast infernos. The roaring was like a hurricane wind, and smoke rose in a thunder cloud – a storm mass riven with internal whirlwinds and fury, but which was almost undisturbed by the gentler winds of the wider world, so that it built and built upon itself, titanic in the sky.

It was a funeral pyre, Dow thought, as great as that of Stone Port or Lonsmouth. A pyre that would be visible for miles across the ocean. Even far to the north across the Millpond, upon the southern coast of Great Island, people would see it rising, and wonder.

He found that tears were blurring his vision. He didn't know why. He should have been glad. He
was
glad. Nevertheless, it was the death of something – an age, a belief, a dream, he couldn't say. He didn't know what he felt. He blinked to clear his eyes, and then saw tiny shapes leaping from the many decks of the capital ship into the waters far below.