Part 7 (1/2)

He raised his eyes: a dark two-horse carriage was pulling up to the corner. The driver reined the animals in, but it was not he who had called to Isiq. On the seat beside the man sat the same well-dressed youth who had approached Hercol in the procession.

'Your valet bid me fetch you a carriage, sir.'

'Kind . . . not necessary . . .' Isiq found he could barely speak.

'Bless me, sir, you're unshod!'

The young man leaped down, ran to Isiq and took his arm. By the time they reached the corner the driver had opened the door and placed the footstool. The inside of the carriage was plush and empty. Isiq paused and stared at the boy.

'Who--?'

'Greysan Fulbreech, Amba.s.sador. King's clerk, and your humble servant. Come, we shall reach the port in no time.'

He whipped a fresh handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Isiq. The admiral mopped the sweat from his bald head and entered the carriage. A moment later the driver cracked his whip and they were off, and at startling speed.

But why were they turning? He was quite sure the port lay dead ahead. Isiq groped at the door and found no handle to open. He reached for the window: barred. Then he felt the handkerchief, still clutched in his fingers, yanked roughly through the bars. As the horses charged ahead he saw the Fulbreech boy on the streetcorner, waving goodbye.

The joyful whines of the mastiffs turned to whimpers: their mistress had not stirred to greet them. Jorl nudged Thasha's chin with his muzzle. Suzyt padded in breathless circles as the party crossed the stateroom.

'Quickly, now,' said Hercol.

They laid her on the bench under the tall gallery windows. Hercol opened the cabinet beneath the bench and reached inside, and when his hand emerged it held a naked sword. Pazel had seen Hercol's sword before - seen it dark with blood, and awhirl in fights - but he had never beheld it this closely. The blade was dark and cruel, and nicked in two places. A flowing script ran up the steel, but the years had worn the engraving almost to nothing.

Hercol noticed his look. 'Ildraquin,' he said. ”Earthblood. That is its name. One day I shall tell you its story.'

He turned and swiftly inspected the chamber, then moved on to the sleeping cabins and the Isiqs' private washroom. When he returned Ildraquin was sheathed.

'No one has entered in our absence,' he said. 'We are as safe here as one can be on this s.h.i.+p.'

'Then I'd best see to my duties, if you don't need me,' said Fiffengurt.

'We need you,' said Hercol. 'But we need you most as quartermaster. Who else will keep us informed of Rose's schemes?'

Fiffengurt shook his head. 'Rose trusts me like I trust a rattlesnake. Still I overhear things, now and again. What I learn, I'll share. And I'll send Thasha's father to you the instant he boards.'

'You're a good plum, Mr Fiffengurt,' said Pazel.

'Seeing as you're an Ormali, lad, I'll take that as a compliment.'

They locked the door behind him. For a moment no one moved or spoke.

Then Hercol said, 'Are you here, Diadrelu?'

'Of course.'

The voice came from overhead. There she was, atop the book cabinet: a woman with copper skin, short hair, black clothes, gleaming eyes. An ixchel woman, a queen until she cast her lot with humans. Crouched on the edge of the cabinet she looked no larger than a dormouse. Standing, she might have been eight inches tall.

'I know you trust the quartermaster,' she said, looking down at them intently, 'but I must tell you that we consider him one of the most dangerous humans aboard. He is inquisitive, and he knows more about the crawlways and secret s.p.a.ces of the Chathrand Chathrand than anyone save Rose himself. And when he speaks of my people they are than anyone save Rose himself. And when he speaks of my people they are crawlies crawlies, and a note of disgust enters his voice.'

'Fiffengurt hates ixchel ?' said Neeps. 'I don't believe it! He's the most soft-hearted old sailor I've ever met.'

'But a sailor nonetheless,' said Diadrelu, 'and schooled in the vices of sailing folk. I do not know if his feelings stem from his past experience or general fear. But I will not soon reveal our presence to this ally of yours.'

'We wouldn't ask you to,' said Pazel.

Dri gestured at the stateroom door. 'Someone tried to pick the lock while you were on the island,' she said. 'Twice. I jammed the mechanism with my sword.'

'Well done,' said Neeps.

But Hercol shook his head. 'What if they had forced the door? You would have been caught in plain sight.'

'Hercol Stanapeth,' said the ixchel woman, 'I have lived my whole life within yards of human beings, men who would have killed me without a second thought. You have little to teach me about stealth.'

Hercol smiled, not quite conceding the point. 'Are you ready, my lady?' he asked.

For an answer the woman descended - three shelves in the blink of an eye, a spring to the back of Isiq's divan, another to Hercol's shoulder, and a last jump to the bench under the window, a few inches from Thasha's neck. When their eyes caught up with her they saw that she was holding something sharp and translucent. It was an ixchel arrow, two inches long - fas.h.i.+oned, as she had told them earlier, from the quill of a porcupine.

'Who will say what must be said?' she asked.

'That had better be Hercol,' said Pazel.

'No,' said Hercol. 'You were there when she fell, Pazel, and yours was the last face she saw as her eyes dimmed. The task is yours.'

Pazel took a deep breath. 'All right,' he said. 'But I'd feel better if a doctor were here. I'd even settle for crazy old Rain.'

'Kneel,' said Diadrelu.

Reluctantly, Pazel obeyed. He put his face close to Thasha's own. It was only then that he realised how truly frightened he was. Thasha's eyes looked withered. The lips he had kissed the night before were flecked with dirt.

Diadrelu reversed her grip on the arrow - and with the whole force of her arm plunged it into a vein in Thasha's neck.

Her eyes flew open. And Pazel began to talk as fast as he could. Don't shout don't shout Thasha you're safe you're with us you're with me Thasha trust me don't shout. Don't shout don't shout Thasha you're safe you're with us you're with me Thasha trust me don't shout.

She did not shout. She leaped away from him in terror, nearly crus.h.i.+ng Diadrelu beneath her and striking the window so hard that a crack appeared in the nearest pane. When Pazel tried to steady her she kicked him savagely away.

'Peace!' hissed Hercol. 'By the Night G.o.ds, Thasha Isiq, I may have trained you too well! Your pardon, Lady Diadrelu, and you too, Pazel! Enough, la.s.s, take a breath.'

Pazel picked himself up, relief breaking over him in waves. She was awake, alive-and free of Arunis' trap. It had all gone according to plan.

Or had it? Thasha's eyes were strange, savage. At last she appeared to recognise their faces, but would let no one comfort her. She s.h.i.+vered as though from deadly cold.

'It worked,' said Neeps softly. 'You were perfect, Thasha.'

Thasha raised a hand to her throat. Her voice was a dry, pained whisper.

'We fooled Arunis?'

'We fooled them all,' said Hercol. 'You did not marry, and Ott's false prophecy cannot come true.'