Dragon Choir (29 page)

It was a lost
battle to urge Tikis any further. He had known him too long. “I
understand,” said Delik, resting his hand on the drakkin’s
shoulder. “This will be behind us soon.”

Delik led
Minni and Elrin into the cottage, opening the shutters and enjoying
the cool breeze that blew in off the water. Fjhor showed them the
pantry and the fresh water barrel, the privy, and the loft sleeping
space. His expression was impossible to read as he described the
amenities. The warrior was hospitable, but preoccupied; his
attention split.

Delik lit the
fire in a small cast iron stove and put the kettle on to heat.
“Would you like to stay for a tea?”

Fjhor shook
his head, absent eyes tunnelled through the walls of the cottage
into the distance. “Thank you, no. I will remain on the pier,
should you need me.” He walked out and stood beside Tikis, the two
warriors content with the mutual silence.

Delik found a
pot and some tea, relaxing into the simple ritual. “Anyone going to
join me for a cup?”

Elrin rubbed
his eyes. “I’m heading up to catch some rest while I can. I was up
far too late last night, considering the day we had. Don’t think me
rude.”

“
Go on lad, get some sleep, we’ll manage,” Delik waved him
off, feeling lethargic himself. “Minni?”

She snatched
the bag of tea leaves from Delik and inhaled. “Oh, that’s so nice!
Pour for me too.”

Delik spooned
the aromatic black leaves into the pot and sorted through the
pantry. By the time the kettle had come to the boil he had a plate
of cut cheese, torn bread and pickled onions on a plate for them
both. He poured the steaming water into the teapot and let it steep
before serving.

“
Here we are then,” Minni kept her voice low. “Just as
planned.”

“
Except for all the hiccups, I suppose.” Dealing with Kobb was
necessary, though it was never going to be easy.

Minni stacked
a small tower of cheese, pickle and rye. “Don’t be so down on how
it turned out. We’re here. That’s better than dead. We can pull
this off, I know it.”

“
Do you now? We’ve lost too many men back there. He sank a
galleon. By Ona, his brains are in his trousers.”

“
Count your shells. The Jandans fared worse than us. We saved
most of the slaves and now they are safe here.”

“
Here is not safe. It’s just a floating prison until we can
take them home.”

“
And home is just a prison until we find the
choir.”

Delik sipped
his tea, bitter and dark. He wished for some milk, though settled
for sugar. “I lost it back there, at Rum Hill.” The shankakin
offered some to Minni who shook her head, unable to speak with a
mouthful. He stirred a lump into his own cup then took another sip,
warming his hands. “Pelegrin got to me, everything got to me. I
just wanted them all to suffer, whether it helped us or not. That
lad of yours had me pegged. Sure as knots, he braved my stupor and
stayed my hand. If it weren’t for him, I’d be planting the same
bloody field as Pelegrin.”

Minni touched
his hand, finishing her mouthful. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.
Even if we spared every Jandan, the Council would have denounced
it. They’d make up what ever they liked because we took their ships
and their slaves. You know how the print will read. They’d call it
an atrocity against the Lord’s chosen. Jandans live in a hive of
lies. Truth matters little to what they say. I’ll take my blades to
any who care to haul me back there and serve in chains again.”

“
You sound just like him. We have to be smart about this and
control our impulse to slaughter the bastards, the less blood the
better. Blood breeds vengeance and hatred. Just look at Pa. He
boils with it. And what good has it done us? For every one he’s
killed, he’s set three against us.”

“
Take it easy on him. You’ve seen it; he is not as he was. Not
since you’ve come back. Things are better now. He listens to you.
He’s put every resource we have into this plan of yours. If Jaspa
didn’t believe in what you do, he would’ve gone on and done things
his own way. We’d be hunkered in a muddy hole, smelling the sweat
of each other’s pits, waiting for a patrol to pass by. Small fry
raids and breakouts weren’t working, you’re right. You’ve brought
us some hope, Delik. But, you’ve got to give the old boy a chance.
He believes in you.”

“
Ha! He’ll never show it.”

“
You’re both so alike.” Minni built another cheese and pickle
tower. “You’re more your father’s son than I’m his
daughter.”

“
What do you mean?”

“
You know, not his real daughter,” said Minni, searching for
the right words. “You said I sound like Jaspa. Well, I’d say you
sound more like him than me. Stubborn old grumps who don’t trust
their own barber with a blade.”

Delik
chuckled, rubbing his stubble. “All right then, enough talk about
the old man when he can’t defend himself. We’d best get our heads
together and break him out to find this Dragon Choir.”

“
Kobb said we could see him for ourselves,” insisted Minni.
“Maybe he’s not locked up.”

“
Yes, of course, Kobb has him staying in a guesthouse down the
next pier darning socks. Heck, he’s probably lured Granny Shan to
tea and made friends with Amber and Hurn already. Such an amicable
old coot, always up for a chat.”

“
If he’s locked up out of sight, we have to break him
out.”

“
This guesthouse might be cosy,” said Delik, “but Fjhor is our
jailor, not our protector. If we behave, or in your case appear to
behave, we might be able to get out and gather some
information.”

“
Play to Kobb’s plans?”

Delik smiled
across his cup. “For now. Provided he continues to serve our
own.”

“
All his flamboyance is a distraction. What if we’re playing
into his hands? He could have a different angle he’s working, one
we haven’t seen. Sinking that ship was pointless, but what if it
wasn’t? Why did he let Uighara and Pelegrin go? He didn’t get
anything from either of them really. Why didn’t he just send one of
them as bait and keep the other for surety?”

“
It doesn’t sit well with me either.” Delik sipped his tea,
soaking in the warm comfort. “We should wait for another audience
with Kobb. Sit tight until then. He’s sure to be boasting about his
conquest, something will slip. We might find out if his plans
extend any further than the Salroc Sea. Then we can make our
move.”

Minni pointed
her last piece of cheese at Delik. “What about the Key?”

“
How should I know? You’re the expert.”

“
How often do I bother with a key?”

The shankakin
furrowed his brow and scratched his chin, pretending to think.
“Having two keys is better than one, though you did let Amber go
just now. Kobb must have the drop on us. He’ll be off with her on
some magical wind, snatching up the choir as we chew upon this
prophecy.”

“
Your poor humour doesn’t help.”

“
Neither does the prophecy. I don’t see how it makes a
difference. If the Key will fall in your hand, then what can we do
wrong? You’ve got two. Take them both. What is the
problem?”

“
Part of my prophecy has that only one key will work. A false
Key will bring the Choir’s wrath. I have to pick the right
one.”

“
Prophecy upon prophecy for a magical trinket no one knows
anything about.”

“
Elrin’s priest, Kleith, knew about it. Knew enough to send
Elrin here to find it.”

“
Didn’t Amber show you that Uighara knew about it too? He
might have had his hooks in Amber because she was the only one to
work the damn thing. That’d explain him keeping her
close.”

“
If he knew where it was, why were the Jandan ships preparing
to return to Lord’s Landing? When I read the Captain’s log
on
Juniper
,
Pelegrin’s last entry was clear. They weren’t heading for the Hoard
Islands. They were just waiting on that last shipment of black
powder.”

Delik tutted.
“The black powder that wasn’t black and weighed as much as the shot
it wouldn’t fire.”

“
Do you have to speak like that? This is confusing
enough.”

“
Just trying to get all the pieces on the table so we can sort
it out. That red powder was what they were waiting on, hidden
amongst the black. Why disguise it? What’s more valuable to the
Jandans than black powder?”

“
Whatever it is, it was headed to Lord’s Landing.”

Delik drummed
his fingers on the cup. Lord’s Landing was a big town with a
temple, second only to the monstrosity in Jando. It was a thriving
town of smiths and smelters, eating ore barged down river from the
iron mines and chewing up the forest to spit out Jando’s finest
ships. It was the untouchable linchpin of the armada, heavily
guarded and a step away from Jando. “What about the new shipyards?
The galleons, the frigates, the—”

“
Forget the red powder, you’re supposed to be
helping.”

Delik huffed.
“If the prophecy of the Key isn’t helping, there must be another
prophecy that mentions the Key?”

“
Only my own.”

“
Well, what is the problem? There must be some daft riddle in
it that gives you an idea.”

Minni was
quiet. Saying it over in her head, keeping it to herself. She had
the nerve to chastise him about trust. Delik had never heard a peep
about the prophecy of the Lock. She kept her mouth shut about her
own while she nagged him and Tikis about theirs.

If Ona planted
a seed, it would grow; life was simple. The Muden of Gren could not
sway the will of the gods with their prophecy. Who were they to
think stirring the pot of portent and scooping out winners would
alter the outcome of the struggle? The gods would do as they
pleased and he would do what was right for his people. He’d fight
the Lord himself if it returned Ona’s sacred soils back to his
kin.

Delik drained
the last of his tea. “Bah! Keep it to yourself then. Prophecy is
getting us lost in our own importance.” He reached for the pot to
pour another, offering Minni a refill first. Her cup was full,
though her plate was empty. Delik noticed his own plate remained
untouched. So he ate, enjoying the sharp cheese and sour
pickle.

Minni sipped
her tea, leaning back in her chair. “Maybe so, maybe because we are
important.”

“
So we are tools of the gods then. A scythe to reap, a shovel
to dig a grave.”

“
Why not keep those tools oiled and sharp, so that they do a
better job.”

“
What would the old Muden of Gren say if they heard you call
them sacred oily rags of Ona? Fit only to keep rust from our
blades, that we better serve her will.”

“
In your case they’d prefer to be a whetstone and hone out
that dull edge.”

“
You’re the one who can’t figure out your job. Take a
sharpening yourself!”

Elrin walked
down the steps of the house, his eyes still clouded with sleep.
“What are you sharpening?”

Minni’s
freckled cheeks hinted red. “How long have you been up?” Her eyes
were wide, worried the Calimskan might have caught a whisper of
their conversation.

“
Just now. I’ve a splitting headache. Did I sleep
long?”

“
Not long enough it seems.” Delik waved him over. “Pull up a
chair, I’ll pour you a tea.”

Elrin took a
seat and thanked Delik for the warm brew. “I was thinking about
what Kobb asked Pelegrin at dinner last night. You know, about the
black powder.”

Minni gave
Delik a slight nod. She didn’t think Elrin had overheard them,
though her winsome eyes for the young man betrayed a bias to that
conclusion.

Delik passed
Elrin his half eaten plate of food. “What were you thinking?”

“
For one thing, you rarely see cannon on ships docked at
Calimska, and there are none on our battlements. We don’t use them.
Yet Pelegrin says the Jandans get their black powder from us. Don’t
you think that’s strange?”

“
I guess the Guildmaster thinks a fireball from a sorcerer is
better than shot from a cannon,” suggested Minni.

“
Maybe. But, Calimska doesn’t trade in shell like coasters. We
trade in precious metals. The Guildmaster’s golden shield protects
us through dragon season and before him we had Daniakesh; our
patron dragon.”

Delik liked
the way Elrin thought. He had a knack for seeing a problem from a
different angle. His Calimskan blood painted him inquisitive, but
he hadn’t been stained by the arrogant superiority most shiners
wore with pride. “So what are you getting at?”

“
How is Jando paying for the black powder and cannon? Shell
wouldn’t make trade, neither would bone. Are they trading in
treasure, from here?”

Delik shook
his head. “The only gold they’d have would be from the Surrender
Moon. That wouldn’t balance the trade. No lad, it’s slaves and
livestock. Jandans see them all the same. Wagons full of my people
are sent under heavy guard to Calimska. Separate wagons are loaded
full of black powder. They’ve been doing it for years.”

“
I’ve lived in Calimska all my life and the only shankakin
I’ve seen are labourers and traders, never a slave. The hamlets and
farms around Calimska have plenty of livestock. Why would we trade
something so powerful that we don’t use, for something that we
don’t need? It doesn’t make sense.”