Wellspring of Chaos (39 page)

“The captain worries,” offered Kharl.

“Wouldn’t you? With the lord’s lady and his heirs in your hands?”

“That I would.” Kharl paused. “Do you know if Lord Ilteron has any ships?”

“None of his own,” Esamat replied. “Leastwise, not that I’ve heard. He’s in tight with the Hamorians, though.”

“We’d better hope that they’ve no warships near.”

“Not likely, and the captain’s a better seaman than any of them. With the engine and favorable winds, no ironbound ship could catch us.“

“Then we’d best hope for favorable winds.” Kharl hoped a great deal more than that was favorable.

Slightly before four glasses after midnight, Kharl pulled on his clothes and readied himself to relieve Esamat. In the darkness, he took up his cudgel and made his way across the deck to where two armsmen in yellow and black guarded the hatchway to the captain’s cabin. Hagen was waiting, as was the undercaptain.

“This is Kharl. He’s one of our three guards.” Hagen held up the small lantern he was carrying so that the light fell on Kharl’s face.

The undercaptain nodded, and one of the guards stood back so that Kharl could open the hatch and step inside.

The passageway was a good twenty cubits long, but less than three wide and barely four high, so that Kharl had to duck his head to avoid hitting it on the overhead. There were doors on both sides for the mates’ cabins, and then smooth bulkheads for the last ten cubits leading to the captain’s cabin. Esamat rose from a stool set aft of the last doors. As the other man did, Kharl noticed that two changes had been made to the passageway. A bracket had been added to hold a small lantern, and a small watch bell had also been added where Esamat had been standing his watch.

“The bell is only if we get attacked or threatened,” Esamat said. “Captain refilled the lantern maybe half a glass ago.” The rigger stretched. “It’s been quiet. Hope it is for you.”

“So do I.”

After Esamat left, Kharl took his position in the passageway outside the captain’s cabin. For almost the first three glasses, except for Hagen’s retiring to the first’s cabin, the only sounds in the passageway were those of Kharl’s breathing and his own movements.

Then, about a glass before Kharl was due to be relieved by Ghart, Hagen reappeared from the cabin that he was sharing with Furwyl.

“Quiet, Kharl?”

“Very quiet so far, ser.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way, but don’t wager anything on it.”

“No, ser.”

“And don’t hesitate to ring the watch bell there if anything looks wrong. Anything at all, you understand.”

“Yes, ser.”

With a nod, the captain left the passageway.

Kharl heard him say, “Good morning,” to the armsmen outside on the deck before he closed the hatch.

In the next half glass, Furwyl appeared, as did Rhylla, then Bemyr, and they all went topside. Ghart was obviously still sleeping.

Then Kharl heard a high childish voice from behind him, loud enough to penetrate the closed cabin door.

“Mommy… want to go home… don’t want to be here…”

“… be going to the summer place…”

“… don’t want summer… want home…”

“… we’ll go home later. Your father will be coming to meet us…”

“… want home…”

About that point, had the boy been his, Kharl would have gotten somewhat more forceful.

Lady Hyrietta merely murmured something else that Kharl could not hear.

“… no… home…”

“No! That’s enough, Kyran!”

Kharl smiled. The Lady Hyrietta wasn’t all that much more patient than he was.

The voices subsided to murmurs, and Kharl studied the passageway, hoping that nothing did happen on the voyage southward, and especially not on his watches.

On the second day of the voyage, and less than a glass after sunset, Kharl was standing his second passageway watch of the voyage south to Dykaru. The seas were almost calm, and Hagen was on deck. In fact, all the mates were somewhere topside.

The Lady Hyrietta and her sons were in the cabin. The nurse had left the cabin a short while before, and from the silence, Kharl gathered that she and Lady Hyrietta had put the boys to bed and that the lady was reading or resting herself, while the nurse was on deck for a breath of night air.

After three glasses in the passageway, Kharl was due to be relieved in about a glass, and he was ready for that. Standing duty in the narrow passageway left him feeling restless and confined. Inadvertently, his thoughts skittered back to his imprisonment in the Hall of Justice in Brysta. Hall of injustice, he thought, wondering if better justicers would have helped, or if they would have been run out or dismissed by Egen or Lord West.

His lips curled into an ironic smile. People didn’t really want justice, not unless they were desperate. Even he hadn’t wanted justice so much as freedom. His thoughts were interrupted by a dull thump outside, from the main deck.

Kharl stiffened, easing off the stool and grabbing the cudgel, then turning as the hatch opened. He could sense someone outside—lifting something—a crossbow. That left Kharl as a target more vulnerable than a grounded goose, outlined by the lamp on the bulkhead. He did the only thing he could think that would help, using his Talent to bind the very air into a shield, hoping that he was in time, and that he could hold the shield long enough.

Clank! Thunk! The crossbow quarrel dropped to the deck, bent. The armsman in black and yellow charged toward Kharl, his sabre extended and clearly expecting a wounded, if not a dead or dying, guard.

Kharl raised the cudgel slightly, but stayed behind the hardened air.

The armsman thrust, his blade striking the invisible shield. The sabre blade shattered, metal scattering across the deck and bouncing from the lower parts of the bulkheads.

At the momentary look of astonishment on the armsman’s face, Kharl released the minute order-chaos hooks holding the air solid, and struck at the man, the cudgel slamming into the attacker’s lower ribs.

“Oooof…” The armsman dropped the useless sabre hilt, trying to dance back and draw a long knife, but his steps were wobbly.

Kharl’s were not, nor was his aim off. His second blow was to the man’s knife arm, and something cracked. His third shattered a kneecap, and the man toppled, slowly, sprawling onto the deck. The armsman did not make a sound, but lay on the deck, writhing.

Kharl stepped forward, his cudgel ready.

The attacker’s good hand went to his belt, and then to his mouth. He swallowed something.

Kharl grabbed for the man’s arm, but with a second swallow, the armsman convulsed. Kharl began to ring the bell that Hagen had attached to the bulkhead.

“What—” Lady Hyrietta’s head peered from the captain’s door.

“Lady! Stay there and bolt the door!”

Hyrietta did not argue, and Kharl heard the bolt slam home.

Within moments, Ghart and Hagen burst through the hatchway from the main deck.

In the dim light from the small lantern, Hagen looked down at the still-convulsing armsman.

“I tried to stop him without killing him, ser,” Kharl said. “But he took poison before I could get to him.”

“Poison?” Hagen looked to Ghart, then back at the fallen armsman, who gave a last shudder before slumping into silence.

“He put something in his mouth.”

“He did something to the outside guards,” Hagen said, his eyes darting from side to side, checking the passageway. “Could have offered them something to drink—water, wine. Both are dead. Poisoned, I’d say.”

“But… he’d been with Ghrant for years… that’s what they said.”

“Treachery… that has always been Ilteron’s way…” Hagen turned to Ghart. “Go find the undercaptain and tell him what happened. Then take care of this one. Don’t let anyone inside here. The undercaptain can look from the hatchway if he insists.“

“Yes, ser.”

Ghart made his way back onto the deck, closing the hatch behind him, leaving Hagen with Kharl in the passageway.

Hagen looked at Kharl. “He picked you.”

“I suppose he did.”

The captain laughed, mirthlessly. “Bad choice.”

“You knew they would,” Kharl said.

“I thought, if there were any treachery, that they would. I’d hoped that his personal guard would have been above subversion. I wasn’t about to wager the lady and the heirs on that hope, though.”

Ghart reappeared. “Undercaptain’s on his way.”

“I’ll talk to the lady.” Hagen turned and walked to the door to his cabin, where he knocked. “Lady Hyrietta? Hagen here.”

After a moment, the door opened a crack, then more.

“I need to come in for a moment.” The cabin door closed behind the captain, and Kharl could hear the sound of voices, but not the words.

Ghart looked at the body of the dead armsman, then at the deck near Kharl’s boots. He bent down and picked up the crossbow quarrel, its tip bent back.

“He must have hit something,” Kharl said. “He shot, then charged me.“

Ghart studied the deck again, this time picking up the shattered sections of the sabre. “I suppose he missed with this, too?”

Kharl shrugged. “He tried to get me. I used the cudgel. Maybe he wasn’t used to fighting in a narrow space.”

Ghart laughed, humorlessly. “We’ll leave it at that, but I think I’ll just make sure all this goes overboard. It’s probably better that way.”

“No one would believe I was that lucky,” Kharl said.

“You’re right about that,” Ghart replied as he turned with the bent quarrel and broken sabre fragments.

Before long, Kharl could hear voices outside the hatchway.

“Poisoned… bastard poisoned his own mates… You want me to believe that?“

“I daresay that Lord Hagen doesn’t much care what you believe, undercaptain. He knows what happened, and he knew it was likely…”

The undercaptain was furious. Kharl could feel the anger.

“You see why the captain wanted two sets of guards?” asked Ghart, his voice calm.

“… and your man killed him so we can’t find out…”

“No… Kharl disabled him, but he wasn’t quick enough to stop him from taking poison.”

“You want me to believe that…”

“One moment.”

Ghart reappeared in the passageway. He shook his head as he bent and grasped the dead armsman’s tunic and dragged the limp form out of the passageway, mostly closing the hatch behind him.

“… face is blue…”

“… poison does that… better believe it.”

Kharl waited, wondering if there would be another attempt to get to the lady and her sons. Yes, he decided. The question was merely whether the attempt would occur on the Seastag or elsewhere.

While he could hope that the attempts occurred where Hagen might prevent them, he had his doubts. Whenever there might be another attempt, it would be with greater stealth or greater force—or both. He didn’t doubt his own courage… but he did worry about knowing enough to deal with something that was less obvious.

Although Kharl and two others assigned to the passageway duty remained especially alert for the last two days of the voyage, there were no more attempts to attack either the armsmen or those standing duty in the passageway. Nor did the ship encounter any other vessels, not any that Kharl knew about, in any case. The seas had been calm, and there had not been much need for carpentry during the short voyage, for which Kharl had been grateful.

On a bright and much warmer eightday, one that was calm and windless, the Seastag steamed into the small harbor at Dykaru and tied up at the single narrow pier that served oceangoing vessels. At least a company of armsmen in yellow and black held the pier, as well as two squads of lancers in the same colors. Waiting opposite the spot where the Seastag tied up was a coach of golden oak, trimmed in black.

Wearing only a heavy gray shirt, Kharl looked beyond the pier, at Dykaru itself, not quite a city, rather a town composed of clusters of buildings, most of them with white plastered walls and orangish brown roof tiles. The trees were all broad-leafed, rather than the evergreens predominant in the north, and had remained green, rather than graying the way leafed trees did in the colder climes. On a low hillside to the west was a keep with light gray stone walls. The walls of the interior buildings were white and roofed in the same tile as the dwellings and structures in the town proper.

The harbor itself was empty of larger vessels, except for the Seastag, and a handful of fishing vessels at the smaller wharf to the west of deep-water pier.

From the foredeck, Kharl watched as the Lady Hyrietta and her sons crossed the main deck to the gangway and made their way down to the carriage. Hagen walked beside her the entire way to the coach, and the nurse followed. The armsmen in black and yellow surrounded them. After escorting the lady, her sons, and the nurse to the coach and closing the door, the captain bowed and stepped back. The lancers and the coach began to move, and then the armsmen on foot fell in behind.

Once the pier was clear, Hagen made his way back up the gangway. Kharl watched as the captain stopped on the quarterdeck and surveyed the ship, then turned forward and made his way toward Kharl. The carpenter waited.

Hagen stopped several cubits away. “I wanted to thank you. I wasn’t totally fair, but I knew I could count on you, and there aren’t many in the world so trustworthy.”

“I don’t know that I am,” Kharl replied.

“In the things that matter you are. You’ve proved that time after time, but then, you probably did in Brysta as well.”

Kharl had his doubts about that. Instead, he asked, “What do you think will happen?”

“Ilteron will bring his forces south and attempt to crush Ghrant before most of the lords, landowners, and factors come to understand how evil Ilteron truly is.” For a moment, Hagen’s lips tightened. “Doubtless the Emperor of Hamor has suggested that he can spare wizards, ships, and armsmen for but a limited time, in order to force Ilteron to act quickly.“

“So that there will be a war that weakens both sides and leaves Aus-tra divided and in chaos?” suggested Kharl.

“For a former cooper, you have come to understand matters quickly, far more quickly than most of the lords of Austra, I fear.”

“Several times, you have been addressed as ‘Lord' ” Kharl said.

“And you would like to know why?”

“If it would not trouble you.”

Hagen laughed once. “I am a lord, of sorts. My father was the arms-commander for Lord Estbach. Lord Estbach was Lord Estloch’s father and the one who became Lord of Austra when his own brother died without proper heirs. My father was gifted with the lands of South Shilton. They are most rocky, fit for goats and sheep, if that, and without meadows, trees worthy of the name, or even a sizable stream. For that reason, and because my father was much respected, no one much cared about the gifting. After my father’s death, I borrowed against them to purchase my first vessel. I was lucky in my trading, and was able to repay the loan. I have not borrowed since, and consider myself most fortunate in that respect.”

“I don’t think that’s the entire tale,” replied Kharl, “but I’d not ask for more.”

“I was also the head of Lord Ghrant’s personal guard for a brief time, a few years back. It was not a happy experience for either of us.”

From what he had seen of Hagen and heard of Ghrant, Kharl could not say that he was surprised.

“It was not a position I desired,” Hagen said, “but Lord Estloch prevailed upon me, and because of what I felt I owed, I did what was necessary and as quickly as possible, and Lord Ghrant and I remained on speaking terms. And there you have it, carpenter and mage.”

“I’m not a mage,” Kharl replied. “I can do a few things that use order, but I’m far from a mage.”

Hagen smiled. “You’re hard on yourself.”

“Not any harder than you are on yourself, ser.”

Hagen shook his head ruefully. “I think not, but the passing years will tell.”

“When will we put back to sea?”

“Not for a time yet. None of the cargo is that urgent.”

Kharl nodded politely. It was clear that Hagen intended to see what happened, perhaps even have the Seastag standing by as a way for Ghrant and his family to leave Dykaru—and Austra—if necessary. “You think things could get bad here?”

“If there’s a fleet from Hamor that appears offshore… that will tell you how bad it is.“

“I hope not.”

“Nor I, but my luck hasn’t run that deep in recent years.” Hagen inclined his head. “Thank you again.” Then he turned and was gone.

Kharl glanced out to the west at the peaceful view of the white-walled buildings of Dykaru, set against the greenery. After a time, he turned away and headed down to the carpenter shop. With little carpentry to do, he would try to glean more from The Basis of Order.