The Pirates of Pacta Servanda (Pillars of Reality Book 4) (3 page)

Alain tried to smile reassuringly, knowing that he was probably not doing a very good job of it. “I understand, my Mechanic. You are also not to die.”

She forced a grin in reply, then hurried away.

Despite the urgency of his task, Alain stood for a moment watching as Mari walked into the fog, her dark Mechanics jacket standing out. The hatred between the Mage Guild and the Mechanics Guild was long and enduring, constantly reinforced by every contact between Mages and Mechanics—who were mutually certain that the others were conceited frauds. He had been taught to view the dark Mechanics jacket as a sign of the enemy. But despite all that had happened between her and her former Guild, Mari still took great pride in being one of those trained in the Mechanic arts and found comfort in still wearing the familiar garment. And Alain, who had only recently turned eighteen years old, knew that he would never have lived past seventeen if not for the times the young woman wearing that dark jacket had placed it and herself between him and danger.

Even if he had not grown to love her, he would still look fondly upon the dark jacket he had once been trained to hate. Perhaps someday the common folk and other Mages would also look upon the dark jackets of Mechanics without anger and revulsion. Just as Mari had taught some of her fellow Mechanics to see that not all Mages were monsters.

Mari had saved him, and she could save this world.

If he could help get them both past the Syndari galley.

Alain hurried off as well, seeking both Mage Dav and Mage Asha. As he walked softly along the deck, he could hear the sounds of galley oars coming through the fog.

The
Gray Lady
was a small ship, and Mages tended to keep to themselves, so Alain had no trouble finding Mage Dav and Mage Asha, the short, dumpy male Mage forming an odd contrast with the tall, beautiful female Mage. But his fellow Mages were one and the same in the blankness of their expressions, showing neither surprise nor interest when Alain summoned them to come with him. Within a few moments all three Mages were on deck, looking even more mysterious than usual with the fog swirling around their robes.

Mari soon joined them with her fellow Mechanics, Alli, Bev, and Dav. All four wore the jackets which marked their status as Mechanics, as well as the jeans and boots which, while not identical, seemed as much a part of the Mechanic uniform as the jackets. Only their shirts varied: Mari’s a pale white, Alli’s bright blue, Bev’s a somber gray, and Dav’s a darker blue that almost faded into his jacket.

Everyone looked at Mari, waiting to hear what she had to say. “Everybody keep their voices down,” she cautioned. “Sound really carries in this fog and there’s at least one galley looking for us.”

“What’s the plan?” Mechanic Alli asked her.

Alain was not surprised by that. Despite Mari’s insistence that she and Alain were equals in making decisions, everyone else tended to view her as being in charge. That bothered her every time she realized it was happening, but it did not concern Alain because he knew that Mari really did try to give him an equal voice in their decisions.

Mari gestured toward parts of the ship barely visible through the fog. “Mage Alain on the quarterdeck. He’ll use fire if he can get enough power. The rest of us along the deck here, facing each side. Alain, I’d like you, Mage Dav, and Mage Asha to work out which spells each of you can use if it comes to that.”

Mage Dav nodded slightly once. Mage Asha merely looked back at Mari. There had been a time when that lack of acknowledgement would have angered Mari, but she had since learned through Alain that the mere fact that the other Mages had accepted her existence was a major concession.

Mari pointed at Mechanic Bev. “Bev, please break out the rifles.”

Mechanic Bev nodded as well, but with a quick jerkiness that bespoke tension. “All of them?”

“Yes. All six. That one that Alli has been working on still jams way too easily, and if we’re facing a galley of fighters coming at us we’ll want to keep shooting and put off reloading as long as we can.”

“What exactly are we facing?” Mechanic Dav asked.

“At least one galley out of Syndar. Listen and you’ll hear it out there. Alain says it’s looking for us.”

“Can I ask something?” Bev said. “Seriously. Why not just let your Mage blow up the galley like he did the Mechanic ship in the harbor at Altis?”

“My Mage…” Mari paused and gave Alain a quick, proud smile. He knew that she liked that phrase. “My Mage might not be able to handle it because there’s not much power here for him to draw on.”

Bev nodded again. Mage powers—abilities that appeared to violate every rule Mechanics had been taught about how the universe worked—were a mystery to Mechanics, but Alain had learned that Mechanics could understand the idea of limited power restricting what could be done. “We don’t have a big supply of ammo,” she pointed out. “I’m just saying.”

“I understand,” Mari said. “I don’t want to get into a fight if we can help it. I hope we can scare off the galley instead, or at least avoid letting it come to grips. If all of us are shooting we’ll have four rifles in use at once, and that is a lot more firepower than commons are used to facing. The Syndari Islands are also more likely to forgive us for frightening off one of their ships than they are if we sink it, and we’ve already got enough enemies at the moment.”

“Why not tell them that you’re the daughter?” Alli asked.

Alain saw Mari grimace and look away before answering. “I think they already know, but are chasing big enough rewards that they’ll find reasons to believe I’m not really that person.”

“They could believe it,” Bev pointed out, “and still want you under their control. As long as the commons and Mages believe that you’re her, you’re like the queen on a chessboard.”

Mari gave a scoffing laugh. “Maybe. That’s the closest to being a queen that I’ll ever be, though. But it doesn’t matter exactly why the Syndaris are chasing us. What matters is that they are.”

“Fair enough,” Alli said. “I bet it still feels weird to be looked at that way, huh? Hey, Bev, let me look at your rifle once we’ve got them. I want to make sure the ejection mechanism isn’t sticking.”

“Yes, honored Mechanic,” Bev said, making a joke of the phrasing usually required of commons, and hurried off to get the Mechanic weapons.

Alli shook her head at Mari. “Some of these standard-model repeating rifles are over a century old. The parts are so worn the things rattle when you move them.”

“Every one of them hand crafted,” Mechanic Dav said, looking out into the fog. “Just like the bullets. I had a friend whose aunt suggested some faster methods of fabricating ammo. The aunt disappeared soon afterwards.”

“The Mechanics Guild doesn’t want a lot of rifles and bullets in circulation,” Mari said. “They want just enough to be able to parcel them out one or two at a time where needed to help any commons doing what the Guild tells them to do, or to hurt any commons disobeying the Guild. We’re going to change that.”

“Is that necessarily a good thing? I mean—more rifles, more ammunition, won’t that make wars even worse?”

Mari paused, looking troubled.

Alain answered. “Mechanic Dav, I have already seen many die at point or edge of sword or from a crossbow bolt. I cannot see that it is different from dying as a result of one of the Mechanic weapons. And having seen what was done at Marandur, I think that it is
why
weapons are used or not used that matters, not which weapons are used.”

Mechanic Dav gazed at Alain and nodded slowly. “I guess that’s true. War is going to be terrible, no matter what. And like Mari says, wars up to now have been all about keeping the Great Guilds in power. At least we’re fighting for a better reason than that.”

Mage Asha came up to stand near Mechanic Dav, her expression still void of any feeling. “If we are to fight, I will stand here,” she said in the emotionless voice of a Mage.

Mechanic Dav looked over at her and smiled. “I’d like that,” he said.

Asha inclined her head very slightly toward him, then looked back out to sea.

Mari leaned close to Alain and whispered. “What is that about? What is Asha doing?”

“Mage Asha is showing great interest in Mechanic Dav. I am surprised how blatant she is being.”

“She’s—” Mari stared at him. “Is Asha flirting with Dav? Is that how Mages flirt?”

“I do not know what flirt means,” Alain said. “But her interest in him is obvious.”

“Obvious? Seriously?”

“Does this bother you?”

“No. Not really. Not that.” She gazed north as if able to see through the fog and the distance. “I’m…nervous, Alain. Not just scared because we’re facing another fight, but nervous about how everyone is asking me what to do. Until Altis it was just you and me, and that was bad enough, wondering if some snap decision of mine would end up trapping us. And at Altis I was just responding to events, trying to keep ahead of things, without time to worry. But now we’ve got three other Mechanics and two other Mages, and they’re not only depending on me to make decisions, they’re also in major danger just because they’re with me. So are the crew of this ship. And how many others, Alain? How many commons are going to die because they believe I am that person they’ve been waiting for?”

Alain knew that the impassive expression he was trained to project was the wrong thing at a time like this. He tried to show concern, hoping that Mari would see it. “You have heard the commons speak of this, Mari. They have been dying for centuries for no greater purpose than to ensure that the Mechanics Guild and the Mage Guild continue to rule this world. Without you they would still die, and without you almost all of them
will
die.”

“I’m under enough pressure already, Alain! Where’s that Syndari galley now?”

Perhaps he should have said something else. Or perhaps this was one of those times when nothing said would really help. Alain gazed into the mist and saw nothing but the hanging curtains of off-white fog. “I cannot tell. There are faint noises which say the galley remains in this area, but my foresight is not working now.”

Mari exhaled angrily. “Is it because of me? Did your foresight stop working because I’m so tense?”

Alain, who still had to work at revealing his emotions, had no problem in showing surprise. Then he shook his head. “No. That should not be involved.”

“You’ve told me that foresight requires a personal connection to someone else, and if I’m not exactly encouraging close feelings at the moment…”

“Such a connection does not vary so quickly,” Alain assured her. “Nor do my feelings vary so much, especially when I know you are under the strain of being responsible for so many things. This is not your fault. Do not blame yourself for my lack of foresight. You know that my gift has always been erratic, Mari.”

She leaned on the rail, gloomily looking into the mist. “I know. But somehow I think of it like another machine. A Mechanic device. Something that I can turn on and it’ll work when I need it to work. Which is kind of funny, really, because I know plenty of machines that don’t always work when they’re needed. But this is part of you, and you’re always there when I need you.”

“Thank you.” Those words had grown easier to say. Mages were taught not to use them, not to consider any courtesy. Alain had once forgotten those words and what they meant. But she had reminded him of the simple phrase, far away in the desert waste outside Ringhmon when they had first encountered each other.

“I take you for granted,” Mari said. “I know I do. And I yell at you when you don’t deserve it.”

“We are not living an easy life,” Alain noted. “But you often show your love for me. I cannot imagine wishing to be with anyone else, whether in peace or conflict, and especially amid the perils we have faced together.”

She reached over and grasped his hand. “And here we are facing danger again, my Mage. At least we’re not facing it alone.”

Apparently he had said the right thing this time. Alain turned to look along the deck, almost immediately spotting instead a dark blot against one part of the mist. “It is there. The galley lies in that direction.”

Mari looked intently where Alain had indicated. “I can’t see anything, but your foresight is obviously working again. After I made nice to you, I might add.”

“That—” Alain paused, thinking. “That is not supposed to matter. The Mage elders—”

“Lied about a lot of things, Alain. Just like my Senior Mechanics lied to me.”

Out of the corner of his eye Alain noticed something else and swung to look off the opposite side of the ship. Another black blot on the fog. That could mean only one thing. “And there is another galley in the direction.”

“Two of them? Wonderful.”

“Why is that wonderful? I thought wonderful meant—”

“Sarcasm! Never mind! We need to tell the captain we’ve definitely got two galleys out there now.”

Alain pivoted slowly, looking for more warnings from his foresight. He paused as another blotch appeared off the bow of the
Gray Lady
. “There are three. And they surround us.”

Mari snagged a passing sailor. “Tell the captain that there are three galleys out there, all looking for us. One in that direction, one out there, and the third over that way somewhere.”

The sailor gaped at her, then hastily saluted. “Yes, Lady Mari! I’ll tell him immediately!” Rushing off toward the quarterdeck as quickly and quietly as he could move, the sailor vanished into the fog.

More soft footsteps sounded, and the shape of Mechanic Bev came out of the fog. “Did you do something to one of the crew?” she asked.

“I told him that there are three galleys out there hunting us,” Mari replied.

“That explains the look of terror on the guy’s face. Three? I thought it was one.” Bev herself no longer seemed rattled as she handed one of the Mechanic weapons to Mari, then others to Alli and Dav.

But Alain could still sense a tightness in Mechanic Bev.
She hides something,
Alain told himself.
Mechanic Bev hides emotions as a Mage does, but for other reasons than Mages do. There is something she will not reveal to anyone
.