Part 29 (1/2)

Was that Cazencian blubber he had boiling in his try-pots? Latzlo asked, his face aglow with excitement. No, no, said Magritte: they had spotted marblebacks just yesterday, and caught one with ease. But one Cazencian was worth fifty common marblebacks, he reminded us, 'for you just don't meet with 'em no more.' The Sanguine Sanguine had chased the pod from Rukmast without taking a single animal, & Magritte was overjoyed to hear that we had spotted them again. had chased the pod from Rukmast without taking a single animal, & Magritte was overjoyed to hear that we had spotted them again.

'I'll catch 'em yet!' he declared with a twinkle. 'Lost two of my lads to those tricky fish. My best harpooner sank his shaft in the largest, and the creature dived, and the line played out a half-league or more - and then a snag! Tragedy, gents! Don't know if it was someone's leg wrapped in the line, a shorn timber, an oarlock - but away that little boat flew, east towards Perdition-knows-where, and by the time the other boats were s.h.i.+pped and we tacked to chase 'em the fog was on us. We've been hunting for 'em ever since.'

I kept on munching cakes. When he hailed us this morning, were his first words, Have ye seen our lost boys? Have ye seen our lost boys? No: he asked after the whales, even though that harpoon crew must have cut themselves free in the first half-hour. And didn't they stop to skewer that marbleback? It's profits he was dreaming of, not the rescue of his men. No: he asked after the whales, even though that harpoon crew must have cut themselves free in the first half-hour. And didn't they stop to skewer that marbleback? It's profits he was dreaming of, not the rescue of his men.

He had news of his own, this whaler. Volpeks to our east in great numbers. Nine wars.h.i.+ps at a glance, he claims to have seen, & suspects a raid on the Ulluprids is in the works. Captain Rose thanked him for the warning & poured more beer.

'I am glad the fog lifted, and allowed this happy rendezvous,' he said. But his voice was as cold as a judge preparing to send a man to the gallows.

'And shall I tell you a preposterous rumour?' said Magritte. 'They say the isle of the lunatics is up in arms. I mean Gurishal. That's right, sirs, the stronghold of that murdering madman, the one our fathers killed for the Sizzies. His cult isn't dead; and the strangest part is that those crazies think their old s.h.a.ggat's coming back back from the dead. That's why they're all stirred up.' from the dead. That's why they're all stirred up.'

'How does a rumour like that make it out of the Mzithrin?' asked Latzlo incautiously.

For once the whaler stopped eating. 'That's a blary fine question,' he said. 'You'd think they'd hush that sort of thing up. Not a bit of it. Everyone's talking about Gurishal, and how the crazies there are all on the lookout for their G.o.d-King. Hmph! Give it two weeks, says I. When he don't come rising up ghostly from the Ninth Pit, they'll all be talking about something else.'

'Everyone but the Nessarim,' said Rose. 'They have waited forty years, and can wait a little longer.'

'Your health, sirs!' said Magritte, oblivious. 'Gentlemen, you are blessed to inhabit a s.h.i.+p that does not reek of whale blood, and whose ovens produced these golden cakes, not slabs of blubber-lard. But tell me: why have you painted over your gilding? I heard tell how the Chathrand Chathrand was decked out in fresh gold from bow to stern for the peace ceremonies.' was decked out in fresh gold from bow to stern for the peace ceremonies.'

'The ceremonies lie far behind us now,' said Rose, 'and one rarely encounters a friendly s.h.i.+p this far from the Nelu Peren.'

'That's the G.o.ds' truth, Captain!' laughed Magritte. 'We were frightened, I'll confess here and now, when we spotted you the first time.'

Rose's hands grew sudden still. The first time The first time. You could almost hear the glances we shot at each other. Uskins' mouth worked, as if he were trying to swallow a sponge. Mr Thyne steepled his fingers.

'You, ah, spotted us before, sir ?' he said lightly. 'Days ago, was it?'

'More than a week,' Magritte told him, 'coming on dusk, it was, though, and you were much farther away - and stern-on, too, so we couldn't see your colours. But it could only have been your Chathrand Chathrand, boys, great blary s.h.i.+p that it was.'

'You could not count our masts, then,' said Rose, 'or see our spread of sail?'

'Neither, neither, sir. But do fill us up, Captain! You've no idea the venomous grog my steward serves.'

Rose took hold of Magritte's tankard & poured it half full.

'I hope you will indulge my curiosity,' he rumbled. 'I have been unsure of our heading for some time.'

'I knew that,' said Magritte with a twinkle. '”The Great s.h.i.+p don't mean to be heading that that way,” I told my men, ”unless she's been seized by rogues. Look where her bow's aimed, my ducks! Not the way home to Etherhorde, is it, now?” What's your trouble, Rose? Binnacle out of true?' way,” I told my men, ”unless she's been seized by rogues. Look where her bow's aimed, my ducks! Not the way home to Etherhorde, is it, now?” What's your trouble, Rose? Binnacle out of true?'

'Perhaps,' said Rose.

'Well there's nothing wrong with ours,' said Magritte. 'We're making west-by-ten-south-west, and from the look of it your heading's some forty or forty-five degrees more southerly. You'll sight Bramian on that tack, sir. Just a matter of time.'

'Time is what I wish to ask you about,' said Rose. 'The day you spotted us - the first time, near dusk - was that before or after you put out boats for the Cazencians?'

Magritte blinked at him. 'It was - before,' he said slowly. 'Two days before, as I recall.'

'Then the crew of your lost boat would have known as well.'

'That we'd spotted you?' asked Magritte, his voice increasingly confused. 'Aye, Captain, all the men were aware. Sanguine Sanguine's not a big s.h.i.+p.'

With an abruptness that turned every head, Rose sat back in his chair. Magritte started, gaping at him. Rose drew a deep breath. Then he raised his own tankard & drained it at a gulp. He pressed an embroidered napkin to his lips.

'Very well, Mr Uskins,' he said.

Uskins shot out of his chair like a bulldog unleashed. He bolted straight for the cabin door, shouting already: 'Mr Byrd! Mr Tanner! Your ports! Matches, matches!'

'Great G.o.ds!' cried Magritte, spilling beer on his trousers. 'What is he doing? Who are those men he's screeching for?'

'Our gun captains,' said Rose. Then he swung the tankard with the full strength of his arm, shattering it just above Magritte's left eye.

The first volley was Byrd's, ten shots from the portside forty-pounders, & they all but ripped the Sanguine Sanguine's rudder-stem from her hull. The force of the blow drove her ruined stern away from us & brought her prow about, so that Tanner's men had an almost dead-on shot at her cut.w.a.ter, which they promptly blew to pieces. It was evident that Rose meant to kill the s.h.i.+p rather than the men, but he didn't manage a clean distinction. One ball shattered against her starboard anchor, catted up snug on her bow. Iron shards screamed past our heads like bats from the Pits; a Burnscove lad took one in the throat & dropped dead on the forecastle. Men on Sanguine Sanguine's topdeck were screaming in agony. At her stern, the s.h.i.+p belched whale oil from a holding tank. The oozing yellow stuff on the surface made her resemble some maimed creature herself, bleeding to death in a trap.

Uskins was on the quarterdeck, now, with a voice-trumpet in his hand. He raised it & bellowed at the whaler: 'Sanguine! Your vessel is destroyed! You will surrender or go down with her! a.s.semble on the topdeck with your hands empty and your minds resolved to obey your new sovereign commander, Nilus R - Ro--' Your vessel is destroyed! You will surrender or go down with her! a.s.semble on the topdeck with your hands empty and your minds resolved to obey your new sovereign commander, Nilus R - Ro--'

He gagged on the cannon-smoke, rising from beneath him. But the poor terrified sutskas sutskas5 didn't need to be told a second time. 'Cease fire! Cease fire!' they wept, rus.h.i.+ng about with raised hands. We were five times her length, & Uskins had every portside gun aimed at the whaler: enough firepower to blast her into kindling thrice over. didn't need to be told a second time. 'Cease fire! Cease fire!' they wept, rus.h.i.+ng about with raised hands. We were five times her length, & Uskins had every portside gun aimed at the whaler: enough firepower to blast her into kindling thrice over.

Aboard the Chathrand Chathrand men looked on in perfect horror. At the wheel, Mr Elkstem's mouth hung open like a sack. Frix stood by the mainmast, quivering & shaking his head. On my left, Bolutu the veterinarian stood like a statue, clutching his notebook to his chest. His face was composed; he did not even seem particularly surprised, but tears ran down his cheeks. men looked on in perfect horror. At the wheel, Mr Elkstem's mouth hung open like a sack. Frix stood by the mainmast, quivering & shaking his head. On my left, Bolutu the veterinarian stood like a statue, clutching his notebook to his chest. His face was composed; he did not even seem particularly surprised, but tears ran down his cheeks.

I myself felt as though I'd just watched my brother murder a child. Nor was I alone: there was rage, a truly dangerous look, in the eyes of some of the men about me. More honour to them More honour to them, I thought. But that was recklessness: Sgt. Drellarek had clearly been apprised of the attack, & his men stood by with weapons drawn.

All this time Rose stood in his cabin doorway, wordless, leaning on that gnarled cane. From time to time Uskins shot him a nervous glance, rather like a dog seeking to rea.s.sure himself of his master's intentions. Rose did not give him so much as a nod.

They brought themselves across the sixty feet of sea, aboard their own whale-boats, & we hoisted them on our lifts. All told they were just thirty-two men: sixteen whale-hunters, including a number of deadly-looking Quezan tribals, & an equal number of crew. Five men, they informed us hatefully, lay dead on the Sanguine. Sanguine.

For a butchering crime it went very smoothly. I must hand it to Uskins: he has a flair for managing violence. He kept one hand on the speaking-tubes running down to the gun deck & lieutenants along the topdeck & Turachs on the fighting top with their arrows trained at the boats. I almost wish Rose had given him some word of approval: it might have spared us the disaster that followed.

Here is what happened. One of the Sanguine Sanguine's topmen, a crooked old guttersnipe with three teeth & a face etched with scurvy, was standing pa.s.sive as a mule while the Turachs bound his wrists. Uskins had come down from the quarterdeck, & was marching swiftly by, hurrying the soldiers along. The whaler had a good look at him, & made a pleased kind of hoot.

'Stukey!'

Uskins jumped three feet in the air. 'What's that? What's that?' he shouted.

'Stukey - tha's whad! Pidetor Stukey, ain't ye? Of course ye are! Don'd ye know me? I'm old Frunc, old Frunc from the Brillbox, Stukey! Yer pappy's mate!'

Uskins stared at the down-and-out figure before him. The Brillbox (as I learned through the gossip-gale that swept the Chathrand Chathrand within the hour) is a speck of a village east of Ulsprit, nestled down beneath tall sea-cliffs that block the sun. A wet, frigid place that survives by scooping guano off the rocks - a gift from the half-million gulls & terns & razorbills who nest overhead - & selling the muck for fertiliser. Not the kind of settlement that had sp.a.w.ned many officers in the Merchant Service. within the hour) is a speck of a village east of Ulsprit, nestled down beneath tall sea-cliffs that block the sun. A wet, frigid place that survives by scooping guano off the rocks - a gift from the half-million gulls & terns & razorbills who nest overhead - & selling the muck for fertiliser. Not the kind of settlement that had sp.a.w.ned many officers in the Merchant Service.

For a moment Uskins looked like a man stripped naked. Then he screamed at the Turachs to get 'that demented slagman' off the topdeck. Frunc went on shouting even as the marines thumped him down the ladderway: 'Stukey! Ouch! Stukey!' His voice floated up to the shocked & silent topdeck longer than you'd expect, & each cry brought a wince from Uskins. It also brought certain men who hated Uskins closer to helpless mirth. Uskins had made a career of mocking the so-called lowborn.

'Who's laughing? Who's blary laughing?' Uskins was now racing this way & that, charging at one stone-faced sailor after another, making things infinitely worse for himself. Even some of the prisoners looked morbidly amused. Then Rose's cras.h.i.+ng voice silenced everyone: 'D OWN!'.