Winterfinding (2 page)

“
Hem may have been too
excessive.” It wasn’t a man; it was a woman. “I can’t abide this
kind of shoddy work.” She wore polished golden armor. Riv felt her
soft had grip his hot, sweaty face.

“
Can you speak, captain?”
The woman demanded.

Riv tried to nod but it probably came across
more like a floundering head roll. Instantly exasperated, the woman
gestured at the shadowed guards, “Let him down, put in him a
seat.”

What was this accent? Riv thought. He
couldn’t place it. Not formal like the Spires nobility, not plain
or as crisp as the Cathedral clergy, not Rikonese or Adrenine, and
certainly not northern or Novosar. She spoke evenly, too evenly,
but she didn’t sound comfortable with the words.

The chains holding him slackened, and Riv
collapsed on the wood floor. Rough hands grabbed him by the arms
lifting him up into a flimsy wooden chair. There were still
shackles around his wrists but the chains now locked beneath him,
beneath the seat. He could move his arms beyond his lap, he felt
his ankles shackled now too. He sat hunched as his muscles
discovered how sore and torn they were.

“
I’ll ask again, captain.
Can you speak?” The woman said.

Riv inhaled deeply and exhaled in fits. He
croaked, “Ya, ya I can talk.”

“
Are you hurt?” She asked
suddenly sounding quite concerned.

Riv began to laugh but felt a surge of pain
all through his chest. He coughed and shook his head, “Not so
much.”

“
Superb,” the woman
dragged a chair to face in front of him and sat. Her armor made
only the slightest jangle as she began to remove her gauntlets.
“It’ll go so much faster and smoother with you in your right
mind.”

“
Where am I? Who…” Riv
raised his head slowly, his eyes closed, trying to right his
posture.

“
You are in one of the
grand barges of the Arali cartel on our way to the Essian port of
Rikonen. I am Umma Myr-Sen. You can consider me…” She tapped her
chin pondering her title, “Admiral of this envoy.”

Riv shook his head, “This is no envoy.” He
coughed, opened his eyes and gazed at Umma with a tired expression,
“This is a war fleet.”

Umma shrugged, “After a fashion. We
certainly have the appropriate strength accompanying us. But we
have such a precious cargo that it warrants such measures.”

“
Cargo?”

“
Why yes, captain, you
didn’t think our barges were empty did you?”

Riv leaned down and brought his hands up as
high as they could go, he tried to wipe his face. Umma leaned
forward and tossed a rag into his lap. “Barges? I’ve never seen
ships like those before. Ever. Anywhere. And if I haven’t seen
them, then no one else has ever seen them before.”

“
Quite true.” Umma nodded.
“It took us two years to build this fleet. Exactly like the ancient
Arali ships. Those used when the Aral was so very lush, a paradise
really.”

“
That’s a
myth.”

“
To you northern folk,
decidedly, yes.” Umma’s tone was lamenting, “You see you call never
really knew the Aral. You northerners are all lost people; you have
forgotten where you came from. So you’ll forgive me if, when I hear
your opinion, I discount it.”

“
What?”

“
Forgotten. Where. You.
Came. From.” Umma glared at Riv. “All people came from out the
Aral, it was where life sprouted.”

Riv let out a long sigh, “I don’t want to
hear about your myths or faith.”

“
Neither do I, captain.”
She said matter-of-factly. “Lappala alone has a recorded history
that goes back 72,000 years. I think the oldest city in your part
of the world is…what? Two thousand?”

“
I’m not a learned man.”
Riv shrugged.

“
I think you know well
more than you would care to admit.” Umma leaned back, “But you are
correct in your sentiment. Now is not the time for a lesson. I need
to know some secrets you hold.”

Riv cough-laughed again, “I have precious
few of those.”

“
Captain…”

“
Riv. My name is
Riv.”

Umma blinked, “Riv. How…quaint.” She smiled,
“Riv, I know where your ship was on course for.”

“
Oh?”

“
Yes, you were coming to
collect two mercenaries.”

Riv’s eyes narrowed and he tensed, “What of
it, if I were?”

“
Well, you see, an
associate of mine tracked down the survivor.” Umma paused, “What
you probably didn’t know about these men you were to ferry was that
they had weaseled their way into the Grand Registry of the Cartel
and stolen some ledgers.”

“
I don’t really care about
accounting.” He tried to brush his involvement off.

“
No, of course not, you
being merely a ferryman.” She said contemptuously.

“
I take on contracts; it’s
the nature of my living. I don’t ask questions if the pay is
enough.”

“
And in this
case?”

“
The pay was more than
enough.”

“
That cuts to my point,
capt…Riv...” Umma gave a wicked smile, “Tell me what you know about
who gave you your contract.”

Riv shook his head, “I don’t know anything
more than what was presented to me, in Anhra by the harbormaster.
They often dole out work and in a lot of cases give facility
contracts. The harbormaster is who you’d want.”

“
Oh, I don’t think I’ll
talk to him.” She nodded, “Anhra is a good way off and I have you
here now in front of me.”

“
I told you…”

“
Nothing.” Umma’s voice
cut into Riv. “You told me what you were instructed to tell anyone
who happened to ask you. You know a good deal more. I need to know
it.”

“
What makes you think I
will tell you?”

“
What makes you think you
needn’t?”

There was silence between the two for a long
time. Riv was trying to work out exactly the cost of revealing what
he knew, of what giving up that information would cost him, of how
it would leave him even more vulnerable than he was now.

Riv stared hard at Umma, “I need water.”

She flicked her wrist and one of the guards
withdrew but in an instant was back tossing a soaked sponge into
Riv’s lap. He held the sponge and felt its weight; lifting it to
his mouth, he sucked the water from it. The water was cold and
clean, not what he had been given up to this point. He felt it move
down his throat and into his body; he instantly felt more himself.
However, it was no blessing; it simply made him more aware of the
pain he was in and the hopelessness of the situation.

“
You, of course, have
concerns for your safety.” Umma said flatly.

“
If I tell you what I
know, how can I be assured I’ll live?”

“
I don’t know if you
shall.” Umma shrugged, “But I know you won’t be ended by me or
mine.”

“
Why should I believe
that?”

“
Because either you tell
me what you know with my assurance or you tell me as I peel your
skin off until I know all I want.” Umma stood never breaking eye
contact with him. Before he could say anything, guards were
handling him, lifting him up out of the chair and dragging him down
the long hall. Umma walked at a deliberate pace behind them,
speaking evenly and without anger.

“
Think about what I have
asked. I shall come to hear what you have to say in the
morning.”

They arrived before a door of iron bars. One
of the guards opened it and went inside; Riv could hear him
struggling with something before re-emerging. They threw him into
the cell as though he were a hay bale. Umma stood before the closed
door, the bars framing her cold face, “Eat. Sleep. Drink. Think.
Decide.”

As she walked away and the guards followed.
Riv sat in the dark unthinking. Then, he heard a scratching from a
corner of the cell—boots. Someone was sitting themselves
upright.

“
Hello?” Riv asked to the
darkness.

“
Aye.” A voice returned
its tone more familiar, not like Umma’s.

“
Who’s there?”

There was a chuckle, “You were thrown into
my cell, mate. I should be hearing who you are first.”

“
You’re not
Lappalan.”

“
Not by a long shot. And I
hope I live long enough to never see the Aral ever
again.”

“
I’m Riv, captain of
the
Kopis
.”

“
Ah, there it is then.”
The voice had a twinge of cynicism to it. “I was supposed to be
your pick up.”

“
Cochrane.” Riv said
flatly, his eyes had adjusted to the dimness. He could see the
outline of the man sitting in the far corner.

“
You were supposed to get
me and my associate, Towsend, from Wick. Take us up to Anhra so we
could make our way back to The Cathedral with our precious bits of
information.” Cochrane’s voice was sour.

“
Pallas.”

“
Yeah. I serve at the
Canon’s pleasure.”

“
You’re not just a
mercenary then?”

“
No, well, yeah.
Officially, I’m a Sulecin justiciar. But in the Cathedral proper,
that just means I’m a clergy merc. I’ve done a good number of jobs
for him.”

“
What happened? The woman
made it sound like they nabbed you in Lappala.”

“
Not quite. We made it in
easily enough, bartered and conned our way into a meeting with a
cartel member. Then used him to get into the Registry. Ended up
pinching the books Pallas wanted with ease.”

“
Getting out though…” Riv
slid back so he could rest against the wall; he was suddenly more
tired than he had ever been.

“
Getting out.” Cochrane’s
voice drifted off. There was silence for a beat, and then he
continued, “We ended up in the deep mines. Old. Abandoned. We had
to keep going further and further into them to get away from the
guards. Eventually, they gave up. I guess they figured we’d die in
the maze of shafts.”

“
How did you get back
out?”

“
Luck. Dumb luck.” Riv
could hear Cochrane laughing a bit. It was desperate sounding. “We
emerged out in the dunes of the Aral. Had books, a compass,
weapons, no food, no water. We headed northwest.”

“
Was it exposure?” Riv
asked.

“
No,” Cochrane shook his
head, “Towsend and I ran into some rovers. They could see we didn’t
belong out in the Aral, so they thought they’d pick us up and turn
us over to the local magistrate for some reward. There were about
twelve of them, mounted.”

“
You made it
though.”

Cochrane shook his head, “I did. I had to
wrap up Towsend’s body and get it to a proper place for burial. By
the time I got to Wick, I was sure you’d be long gone. Guess you
got held up.”

There was a pause, but Riv refused to fill
the void, “Anyway. I wasn’t there for more than a couple of nights
when he found me.”

Riv shrugged, “Who?”

“
Haven’t met him yet, eh?
Well, you’d know him if you saw him. Tall, even for these people.
Strong, I think he may be all muscle and bone. Blackest eyes like
they’re all of night. He found me with far too much ease and I’m
not easy to find when I’m looking to lay low. Fighting him was a
waste.” Cochrane held up his forearm, it was entirely covered in a
sad looking grey bandage, “Bastard held my arm in fireplace until I
gave up the books.”

“
Why didn’t he kill
you?”

“
Same reason they didn’t
kill you.”

“
They think we know
more.”

“
They know we know more.”
Cochrane echoed. “So they put me on a skiff out of Wick and next
thing I knew I was on board this monstrosity.”

“
All of this isn’t because
of what we were contracted to do.” Riv shook his head.

Cochrane snapped his fingers and point at
him, “Just so. They had already unleashed this fleet whether we
were involved or not. I think we’re just flies in the
ointment.”

“
What can we tell them?”
Riv muttered. “They’ve got my ship.”

“
Your ship is gone.” Riv
snapped his head toward Cochrane. He shrugged, “They’ve probably
already disassembled it for parts or scuttled it. Just like your
crew are either dead or part of a new navy.”

“
Pallas
though.”

“
I figure he’ll find out
about this around the same time the rest of the Cathedral
does.”

“
That’ll be far too late
for anyone to do anything.”

“
Who says they need to?”
Cochrane’s voice was distant, “This fleet is laden with bithumin, I
can smell it. Raw. Feels like it’s floating in the air and coating
my throat with some sour oily film. There must be enough to swap
for all the treasure in the Spires, Cathedral, and Essia combined.
This is a final venture.”

“
Why now
though?”

“
Because it’s
gone.”

“
What is?”

“
The bithumin.”

“
Impossible.”

“
The books we snatched,
they weren’t ordinary ledgers. They marked the exact amount of
bithumin mined from the very beginning of Lappala. We took the two
most recent volumes, which showed that mining was futile. The
bithumin was gone. And what’s more, it made it clear that the stuff
was poison.”