Part 17 (2/2)

'The worst one yet?' she asked, stroking the lame little creature. 'You poor thing. Tell me about it; that always helps with nightmares.'

'Don't remember. Never can remember. My legs hurt. Oh Thasha!'

'Hush now. It's over.'

'All over. All finished, done.'

'Felthrup,' she said gently, 'can't you remember anything? It really might do some good, you know - like coughing up a poison, rather than keeping it inside.'

The rat squirmed in her arms. His stump-tail twitched. He made an obvious effort to still himself, to bring something, anything back with him from the darkness.

'Where are my spectacles?' he said.

12.

Lady Oggosk's Warning

10 Teala 941 89th day from Etherhorde

'You are Alifros,' shouted Captain Rose.

He stood at the quarterdeck rail, red beard tossing in the wind. As he spoke, he swept a hand over the sailors and tarboys, the hundred Turachs, the forty pa.s.sengers let out on deck for the first time since Ormael: literally the whole s.h.i.+p's company, swelling away from him across the gigantic topdeck, or watching from their stations on the masts.

No one looked impressed by his remark. At the wheel behind Rose, Elkstem shook his head slightly, as if to say Any old tosh Any old tosh - though neither he nor any member of the crew would have risked such facial dissent in Rose's sight. - though neither he nor any member of the crew would have risked such facial dissent in Rose's sight.

They had sailed thirty-nine hours, east by south-east: a fast, flawless running. The waters east of Simja were deep and well-charted; there would be no hazards sooner than Talturi, another day's journey at the least. No rain, nor any hint of it. Still it was odd to summon all hands just to talk philosophy.

But then everything was odd. The sailors gazed up at Rose, fear and anger mingled in their eyes. Most had not set foot on land since Tressek Tarn, eight long weeks ago. None had gone ash.o.r.e in Simja. And their n.o.ble mission had been reduced to one of plotting and deceit. Thasha was dead; none knew why. Pacu Lapadolma had married the Sizzy in her place; then the Sizzies had come and called them murderers.

That particular notion was becoming more likely by the day. The men were filthy and stiff and tired of each other's smells. The new hands (including five new tarboys) were still in shock: the night before Rose had called them to his cabin and, surrounded by Turachs, revealed that they were not, in fact, bound home to Etherhorde. By the time he had explained their true mission the boys were shaking, and the men pale as death.

Some of the old crew had yet to move beyond such terror. Most, however, had turned it into a sort of doomsday rage. Their ultimate fate was beyond their control: they were little people caught in the affairs of kings. But they bitterly resented the loss of the earthly joys of sh.o.r.e leave.

Fear might nonetheless have kept these longings buried had not the Lily of Locostri Lily of Locostri, a floating brothel famous throughout the Crownless Lands, made an appearance in Simja. For two nights she had worked her way quietly about the bay, pa.s.sing close enough for the breeze to carry hints of jasmine and mysorwood perfume to the Chathrand Chathrand. Such teases were bad enough, but the sound of young women's laughter had sparked fights and fits of weeping, self-inflicted wounds with rusty knives, the drinking of walrus oil and other acts of pure hysterical frustration. Mr Teggatz, the mildest-mannered cook in fleet history, had thrown back four pints of basting wine, insulted the G.o.ds, chased his tarboy a.s.sistant with a meat cleaver and vomited into a dumpling stew. And then the orders had come: Stations! Weigh anchor! All hands make ready to sail! Stations! Weigh anchor! All hands make ready to sail!

'If we're Alifros, Rin save this blary world,' muttered Neeps.

Rose had yet to speak again. He gaze swept fore and aft, and his hand was still raised above the crowd.

'He's up to something,' said Pazel. 'He's got that gleam in his eye.'

Jervik Lank, standing right in front of them, glared over a burly shoulder. 'And you've got bilge for brains, Muketch. Shut your gob.'

There were sn.i.g.g.e.rs from several tarboys. Pazel looked at Jervik's broad back with contempt. The older boy's hatred of Ormalis was as strong as ever, but his superst.i.tious fear of them had lately diminished. That could be remedied: a few Flikkerman-hisses or Augronga roars would set him straight. Pazel was far more worried by Jervik's new ties to Arunis. He had spotted them together again just that morning.

'What's the matter, then, Undrabust?' said Jervik, seeing Neeps' look of rage. 'Ah, I know. You're missin' that village girly, ain't you? I've been hearin' about the two of you.'

Pazel struggled to hide his fury. Jervik could only mean Marila, the Tholja.s.san girl they had met among Arunis' captives, and left behind with her little brother in Ormael. Neeps turned scarlet, and Pazel wondered if he had had taken taken a s.h.i.+ne to Marila. taken taken a s.h.i.+ne to Marila.

'Let it go, Neeps,' he said softly.

'Tha's right,' laughed Jervik. 'Listen to your mate, Undrabust. After all, his girly's dead.'

His laughter carried to Mr Uskins, who turned and froze the boys with a stare. Pazel clenched his fists until the nails bit into his palms. Jervik was goading them, as he had done from the start of the voyage, as he had done to Pazel for years on an earlier s.h.i.+p. But knowing that his abuse was tactical did not make it any easier to bear, and neither did the fact that Thasha was actually safe and sound. Pazel felt a loathing for Jervik so tangible he could almost chew it.

'You are Alifros,' Rose repeated at last. 'Few among you will understand me, and the time has not yet come for me to explain. But there is one matter about which you should have no doubt. Everything has changed Everything has changed. The known world lies behind us. The lives you have lived, the comforts you grew fond of, the very people you have been until this moment - gone gone!'

He bellowed the last word, snapping more than a few wandering eyes back to his face. When he continued his voice was lower.

'We've said our goodbyes, men. Not just to the Imperium, but to the world of law itself - any law, save that of nature and her occulted guardians. You're amused, I know. You think, ”We're not even out of the Peren, who does he think he's fooling?” But you're wrong. Everything has changed. Very soon you will discover this for yourselves.'

He leaned towards them, daring eight hundred souls to give so much as a giggle. No one obliged. Then Rose straightened, nodded to Uskins, and went to stand beside Elkstem at the wheel.

Mr Uskins leaped up the quarterdeck ladder and faced the crowd. He raised a sheet of parchment above his head. The first mate's teeth were set in a grimace. He crushed one end of the parchment in a fist.

'New crewmembers will fall in on my left and be recognised!' he screamed, in a voice that suggested he would fall on them with beak and talons. 'Face forward, order of rank! And by the lions of the sea, if you waste our time I'll have you lick every man's heel on the Chathrand Chathrand, beginning with those sporting boils or open sores, Rin drown me if I lie! Mr Kiprin Pondrakeri, seaman!'

A muscular sailor with a shaved head and tattooed arms leaped forward through the crowd, knocking aside men and boys in his haste.

'Mr Vadel Methrek, seaman!'

A turbaned man followed the first. As they scrambled for the ladder the crew struck at them - not gently at all - and hissed, and growled Rotter Rotter or or Lousehead Lousehead or or Bottom o' the barrel! Bottom o' the barrel! The soldiers joined in; even the tarboys struggled to land a few blows. The soldiers joined in; even the tarboys struggled to land a few blows.

The mystified pa.s.sengers looked on, appalled. But the crew were relieved: now at last they knew why they had been called on deck. No one, not even Uskins, was truly angry. This was a procedural pa.s.sion, and one more way of seeking good luck on the voyage. From time out of mind it had been the practice of the Merchant Service (and the Arquali navy) to induct crew members with threats and insults - the better to protect them from the ghosts of dead sailors, who might feel jealous if they received smiles and friendly applause. Every recruit knew of these rights. They would, in fact, have taken grave offence if treated kindly.

Pazel and Neeps jostled with the rest, looking for someone to abuse. By the weird logic of the service, to hang back now was the only true form of contempt. Rounding the starboard windscoop, Pazel saw a wiry Simjan sailor rus.h.i.+ng forward, arms wrapped protectively about his head. 'Sc.u.m!' he cried, and pulled back his fist. he cried, and pulled back his fist.

A rough hand caught his arm. He was yanked backwards, off balance. Jervik's fist came down like a club against the side of his head. The next moment he was on the deck. Moisture struck his chin: Jervik's spit.

'You ain't crew no more,' he said. 'Don't you forget it.'

Then Jervik was gone into the melee. Pazel felt as though a horse had kicked him in the face. In a blind rage he forced himself to stand - and just as quickly fell, dizzied and weak. I'll get you, Jervik, I'll get you, d.a.m.n your dumb soul I'll get you, Jervik, I'll get you, d.a.m.n your dumb soul.

Neeps found him as the free-for-all came to an end: Pazel had crawled to the back of the crowd and laid his face against a cool iron breastplate. Neeps helped him stand up. The look the small boy wore might have given a Turach commando pause.

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