Hood said nothing for a time, studying the roiling clouds marring the way ahead. Then he spoke. ‘I so dislike moments of revelation, Captain. One is invited to infer all manner of deliberation leading us to this place, this time. When the truth of it is chance and mischance rule our every step.’ He sighed. ‘Very well, I am not indifferent to your … needs. This possibility only gained life when two usurpers reawakened the remnants of Kurald Emurlahn – the Realm of Shadow – and then set out to travel the warrens, and indeed the Holds. Seeking knowledge. Seeking the truth of things. What they eventually discovered did not please them. And in the boldness of their … youth, they decided that something must be done.’
‘Two new gods,’ Shurq Elalle murmured. ‘They came to you?’
‘Not at first. Instead, they sought out loyal allies among the mortals they had once commanded. Well, perhaps “mortals” is not quite accurate in some instances. No matter. Let us call it a wondrous conflagration of circumstance and character, a kind of audacity which made anything possible. Before long, they found the need to gather additional allies. Shall I list them for you?’
‘Why not?’
‘The Son of Darkness, who understood the true burden of a surrendered future, the fatality of empty faith. The Warlord of the Sleeping Goddess, who would defy the eternal patience of the earth itself, and Stonewielder, the One who stood facing Caladan Brood, ensuring the world’s balance. These two are destined to walk disparate paths, but what they seek is much the same. The Queen of Dreams, whose pool had grown still as death itself. The Lord of Tragedy – and, well, a host of others, all drawn into the fold.’
‘Those you have named – are they gods?’
Hood shrugged. ‘Ascendants. The complexity of this beggars belief,
to be honest. The sheer scale of contingencies … well, for all his peculiarities, let no one accuse Shadowthrone of failings in the matter of intelligence. The same can be said for Cotillion, for the patron of assassins well comprehended that just as certain individuals deserve a knife through the heart, so too do certain … ideas.’
‘Yet mortals are part of this plan, too.’
‘Indeed.’
‘The Adjunct Tavore Paran?’
Hood was silent for a moment. ‘This congress, Captain, is not above cruel use of mortals.’
‘That is … unfair.’
‘But consider what may be won here, Shurq Elalle.’
‘I have – I am, Hood. But … no.
That is unfair
.’
‘The storm, Captain—’
‘Why does that surprise you?’ she retorted. ‘Try telling me something that doesn’t break my heart, then. Try telling me something that doesn’t make me furious – at your arrogance. Your contempt.’
‘We do not hold the Adjunct Tavore Paran in contempt.’
‘Really?’ she asked, the word dripping with derision.
‘Captain, she takes our arrogance and humbles us.’
‘And what’s her reward?’ Shurq demanded.
Hood looked away, and then shook his head. ‘For her, there is none.’
‘Tell me,’ Shurq said in a rasp, ‘tell me she did not agree to this.’
‘To that, Captain, I shall say nothing.’ He stepped past her then and raised his hands. ‘We cannot survive the violence your thoughts have conjured, Captain. Thus, I have no recourse but to intervene. Fortunately,’ he turned to eye her briefly, ‘Mael concurs.’
‘Push it away, then,’ Shurq Elalle snapped. ‘But I will bring it back, I swear it. To so use an innocent woman …’
‘You begin to try me, Captain Elalle. If you intend to fight me for the rest of this voyage, I must find us another captain.’
‘Please do, Hood. I barely knew the Adjunct, but—’
He twisted round. ‘Indeed, you barely know her. I will tell you this, then. I looked out through her sister’s eyes, through a helm’s visor – in the moment that she died – and I stared up at my slayer, the Adjunct Tavore Paran. And the blood dripping from her sword was mine. You will speak to me of innocence? There is no such thing.’
Shurq Elalle stared at Hood. ‘So, in using her now … is this punishment?’
‘Consider it so, if it eases your conscience.’
‘She murdered her sister?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is it guilt that drives her now, Hood? Does she seek redemption?’
‘I imagine she does.’
‘Will she find it?’
Hood shrugged.
What is it you’re not telling me? I can sense … something. The sister … a helm’s visor
. ‘Hood, that murder – was it an accident?’
The Jaghut did not reply.
Shurq stepped closer. ‘Does Tavore even know she killed her own sister?’
‘Irrelevant, Captain Elalle. It is the ignorant who yearn most for redemption.’
After a moment, she stepped back, went to the side rail, stared out over the rolling grey swells, what Skorgen called swollen waters. ‘If we had met in your realm, Hood,’ she said, ‘I would not have refused my state. I would not have sought to escape. Instead, I would have tried to kill you.’
‘Many have, Captain.’
‘Good for them.’
Swollen waters
. ‘Hood, if she never discovers the truth – if she is made to carry that ignorance for the rest of her days … do you even care?’
‘Do you imagine that knowledge would be a gift?’
‘I … don’t know.’
‘The truth may hide at your feet. The truth may lie coiled in high grasses. But it still has claws, it still has fangs. Be careful, Captain, where you step.’
‘Food reserves are dwindling,’ Felash said, and then sighed and looked up at her handmaiden. ‘Straits are dire for dear Mother.’ She sat straighter, arched her back and groaned. ‘Do you advise rest? These journeys through troubled realms, by Jaghut’s cold breath or not, do take their toll upon my delicate self. But I must refuse your concerns, my dear. Necessity demands – is that wine you’re pouring? Excellent. I’d thought that long gone.’
‘I made a request, Highness.’
‘Indeed? Of whom?’
‘It seems,’ the woman said, passing over a cup, ‘libations in the name of death continue unabated, and if the once-god of that dread underworld is not above trespassing in his old … er, haunts, well, far be it from us to complain.’
‘Just so. Nonetheless, sweetie, I dislike the notion of you consorting with that hoary creature. Best keep a respectful distance, matching my own wise caution in this matter.’
‘As you wish.’
‘But I must say, superb wine, given its provenance – I trust you have acquired a decent supply.’
‘Luckily, yes, Highness.’
‘The other news is almost as dire, I’m afraid. We have cause now to mistrust the motivations of the Perish Grey Helms. Most disturbing.’
The handmaid’s eyes narrowed as she set to filling a bowl of rustleaf. ‘Are we not at this moment sailing to a rendezvous with the Perish fleet, Highness?’
‘Assuming no calamity had struck, yes. But what is their disposition? The answer to that question is now paramount.’
‘Perhaps I could scry—’
‘No, we cannot risk that. The warren of the Forkrul Assail waxes full – hmm, was I being poetic there, or succumbing to cliché?’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ murmured the handmaiden, concentrating on lighting the pipe.
‘We have been careless in your education. Never mind. Too late now, for it is well known that a person’s brain ossifies at a certain age, becoming incapable of new acquisition, barring simple matters such as languages, martial skills and so on. There is a moment when true genius is within the reach of any and every child, and the gauge of that moment’s duration is in fact the only means of defining intelligence. Thus, while you are naturally bright, and therefore it is probable that the time of your receptivity could have been measured in months, if not years, we have done all we thought to do at that juncture, and the time for regrets is past – my dear, what was in this wine? My mouth seems to be running all by itself. For most people, of course, that moment of receptivity was sadly brief. A day? Half a day? And alas, once gone, it can never return.’
‘Excuse me, Highness, your pipe is lit.’
‘Good. Give it over. About this wine—’
There was a knock upon the cabin door, and a moment later the latch lifted and First Mate Skorgen Kaban the Pretty loomed in the doorway, knuckling his brow. ‘Princess, Highest of Highs, beg yer pardon. Got urgent happenings up top, if you please. Cap’n requests yer presence.’
Felash sighed. ‘Very well, assuming I am able to, uh, stand. Umph, some assistance—’
The handmaid reached out to steady her.
‘Lead on, Skorgen,’ Felash said with a careless wave of one hand. ‘And if you must ogle my tits, try being subtle about it, will you?’
‘Sorry, Highness. Only got the one good eye, y’know.’
They paused and waited while the handmaid got over a sudden fit of coughing.
Shurq Elalle turned as her first mate clumped up to her.
‘Captain! The Squall Witch – she’s drunk!’
‘Pretty, was that meant to be a whisper? Greetings, Highness.’
‘Drunkenness lies in the purview of the lowborn. Captain, allow me to assure you that I am neither drunk nor lowborn. But, I must ask, where is our Jaghut guest?’
Shurq grunted. ‘Thought you’d have passed him on the way up. There is the matter of keeping at least one knife well hidden, you see.’
‘No, Captain. I am afraid I do not.’
‘Ah, of course.’ Shurq pointed ahead. ‘We have been sighted by that ship and it now bears down on us. Not a Throne of War. Kolansian, one presumes.’
Somewhat unsteadily, the princess made her way to the captain’s side. ‘Oh dear,’ she said, ‘that is an Assail ship. At the very least, a Lesser Watered will be commanding. Most distressing, of course, are the implications.’
‘As in,’ ventured Shurq Elalle, ‘where is the Perish fleet?’
‘Precisely. And if that is not sufficiently alarming, I am afraid that I have been engaged in exhausting rituals this day. If we must fight, I will be of little use. We have already experienced the danger posed by Forkrul Assail, by both their physical prowess and the sorcery of their voice.’
‘I need no reminders, Highness. And while I proved immune to such magics, the same cannot be said for my crew. And now you tell me that you are unable to defend us. So much for hiding one knife, Highness.’
‘We shall see. We have, after all, my handmaid.’
Shurq glanced over at the woman, recalling her attacks upon Sister Equity. ‘She did not fare so well against a Pure, Highness.’
‘Well, a Higher Watered’s Assail blood is, er, watered down, and is not quite as powerful. In any case, it remains to be seen how this will play out. After all, this could be one of the betrayers among the Assail. In the meantime, Captain, may I suggest your first mate gather your crew and make for the hold.’
‘Skorgen, take ’em down and keep ’em quiet.’
‘Aye, Captain.’
There was something skeletal about the Assail ship. Two types of wood were visible, one bone white and the other dull black. The hull was narrow of beam and high-castled, and with the two masts offering minimal canvas, Shurq suspected that it had been built to ply sheltered waters. An open sea gale could well swamp such a ship. At twice the mass of her old raider, the
Undying Gratitude
, Shurq judged it to have a complement of seventy or so sailors on board, along with twenty or more marines, and as the craft came around and fell off before the wind on the port side of the Death Ship she stepped to the rail and looked across. A tall, spectral figure was staring down on her, flanked by two helmed guards cloaked in chain surcoats.
A few paces behind the captain, Princess Felash said, ‘Dearie, those marines.’
‘Yes, Highness,’ the handmaid replied.
‘Captain?’
‘Highness?’
‘Why not ask them what they want?’
Shurq turned to eye the princess. Before she could say anything, however, there were shouts from the Assail ship, and she swung back to see the handmaid scrambling up the side.
Shit, wish I’d seen that leap
. The craft was wallowing at least six paces away. ‘Princess, what is that woman doing?’
The handmaid drew herself up and over the rail. The deck was an eye-hurting maze of black and white wood, like a shattered mosaic. Six more helmed, chain-clad marines stood near the main mast, now drawing heavy cutlasses.
The Assail half-blood commander wore a heavy, jewelled cloak, the thick oiled wool dyed a deep blue. Torcs of gold collared her long neck, and her head was shaved, emphasizing the angled planes of her skull. She was unarmed, and she now faced the handmaid with a look of amused surprise, lifting a hand to stay her soldiers.
Looking round, the handmaid saw recent storm damage – much of the rigging had been torn away, and mounds of cordage and shattered stays littered the deck. There seemed to be less than a score of hands working on repairs.
‘Inform your captain,’ said the Assail half-blood, ‘that having entered territorial waters, she must abide by the laws of High Kolanse. I am Lesser Watered Intransigent, Inquisitor of the Southern Fleet.’