Sword of Wrath (Kormak Book Eight) Page 6

  “Is that what you have heard?”

  “Indeed it is. And may I say, sir, that it does not surprise me. I have the good fortune to be part of the group of merchants who begged the services of your order to rid the seas of the accursed Kraken. A job which you performed with admirable efficiency, I might add. You are a very effective man, Sir Kormak, and I can always find work for an effective man.”

  Kormak turned this new information over in his mind. What was Orson telling him here? The cabal of merchants who bribed the order into sending him after the Kraken had been a front for Prince Taran and the king. Was Orson hinting at secret knowledge, of having a place higher in the royal estimation than he was outwardly claiming? Did he know who the Kraken had been?

  “Alas, I am sworn to the service of my order,” Kormak said.

  “Of course, of course. I am ashamed that I have given you cause to think me so crass as to believe otherwise.” Kormak detected a hint of mockery in the fat man’s voice now. If Orson had been part of the cabal, he probably believed the way to secure the services of a man like Kormak was to make a large offering to his order.

  “I do not think you are so crass,” said Kormak. “You have not shown yourself to be anything other than a man worthy of the greatest respect.”

  “You flatter me, Sir Kormak, and I am petty enough to be pleased to hear you say such a thing. May I ask who your extremely exotic and absolutely enchanting companion is?”

  Kormak felt certain that Orson already knew the answer to that. “She is Captain Rhiana, late of Port Blood.”

  “A captain? Well, well. And a child of Saa Aquor unless I miss my guess. It is very unusual to hear of a member of your order being so… friendly to one of the creations of the Old Ones.”

  “Life is often more complex than stories would have us believe.”

  “Forgive me, Sir Kormak. Curiosity makes me forget my manners. In any case, I look forward to getting to know both of you better. On a ship at sea, there is often little else to do.”

  He stepped aside with a bow. Kormak watched Orson Waters depart flanked by his bodyguards. He was not the only one watching them go; many eyes stared at them with something like loathing. A lot of the nobles present clearly disliked seeing such a wealthy commoner.

  Chapter Seven

  “You marked him then, the famous Sir Kormak?” Orson Waters asked his bodyguards. They looked around the large luxurious cabin as if they suspected they might be under observation, then nodded. “Be careful around him. He is a very dangerous man.”

  Urag stared at him. Those unblinking blue eyes were unsettling. They flickered from Orson to Burk, and then back again.

  Orson let out a small sigh and rubbed his plump hands together. Urag was there as much to keep him under observation as to act as his bodyguard. Count Balthazar did not trust him, despite the hold he had.

  Orson supposed the man was right to be suspicious. It was possible that he could find other sources for the medicines with which the alchemist provided him. On the other hand, he doubted anyone else could ever offer the ultimate secret Count Balthazar possessed. Orson would remain loyal at least until he got his hands on that. And Urag was useful enough when it came to performing any number of dirty jobs. Still, even if Urag knew that Burk was a Lunar agent, it would be best if he did not know the subject of their discussions. The fewer people who knew that, the better. In this game, every little advantage counted.

  Orson dropped one of the small pellets Count Balthazar had provided into a goblet of wine. He rattled the bottle. Still plenty. Good. It would not do to run out before they returned to Maial. He took the wine down in one long swallow and felt the tension drain from him. Another day of life gained. Another day his heart would continue to beat normally within his chest.

  He rubbed his pudgy hands together, let out a long breath and gathered his wits. It was time to deal with this emissary from the Courts of the Moon who had presented himself in the palace a few days ago and taken the place of his bodyguard. A pity about the original Burk. He had been a loyal man and useful. Still, the Cause must be served. Sacrifices had to be made. He was suddenly glad Urag was there; it was good to feel there was at least one other human in the room.

  The false Burk walked over to the door and listened, then walked around the small cabin, head held low to avoid bumping into any of the sea lanterns. It was uncanny, Orson thought, how well he duplicated the man he had replaced. Every move, every gesture was the same. If he had not known...

  He looked at Urag, head tilted to one side.

  “You trust him?” the false Burk asked Orson. “The backwoodsman?”

  “Implicitly. He is privy to all my secrets,” Orson said. The part about the secrets was mostly true enough, and he did not want this Lunar emissary getting the idea there was dissension within the ranks of the rebels. The aid of his masters was too important to the Cause.

  “Aye, feel free to talk about me as if I am not here,” said Urag. Burk paid him no attention at all.

  “I don’t like ships,” said Burk, at last. He poked his head out a porthole, took a look round and then withdrew back into the cabin. “Too small. Too easy to be overheard.”

  He produced a small amulet on a long silver chain and studied it. “No one is eavesdropping.”

  “You seem very sure of that,” said Orson Waters. He had seen sorcery worked many times but he felt it unwise to be blatant about it aboard one of the King-Emperor’s ships, with a Guardian of the Dawn aboard. They were said to have many unusual skills when it came to detecting magecraft.

  “This charm will detect any spell of eavesdropping cast by anyone less than an archmage. It has served me well in a hundred places.”

  “Let’s hope it serves you well now.”

  “The only mage on board is the windcaller. She is powerful but her magic does not run to divination, at least if it is not connected with the weather.”

  “Are you willing to bet your life on that?”

  “I have many times. There is no need to be nervous, Goodman Waters. I know what I am doing.”

  The voice and the tone were Burk’s, but there was something odd underneath. The real Burk had been Orson’s creature, bought and paid for, body and soul. He would have fawned at his master’s words.

  The changeling made it sound as if he were fawning, and yet at the same time made it clear that he was not. It was the words obviously, but there was something else there. A slight change to the stance, a gaze that met his own without fear of loss of place or station.

  “I sincerely hope so.” It was an interesting situation. Orson was all too aware that he might be the next one replaced if he was not careful, once the changeling had studied him and found out what it needed to know, unless he could show that he was more useful to the creature and its masters alive than dead. That should not prove too difficult; he had many secrets and many connections that the Lunars would need to further their long-term plans. He had need of them to further his own schemes.

  Orson allowed himself a smile. He had spent his whole life in high-stakes negotiation, had raised himself from a clerk to the richest man in the kingdom. He had dealt with sorcerers and assassins. This was just one more such challenge.

  He was big and lazy-looking and amiable. People always underestimated him. The changeling would too. If he did not, Orson Waters would deserve his death. He did not think it would come today though. “How is the beautiful Lady Marketa?”

  “Very well. She sends her greetings.”

  “I had hoped she would send more than those.”

  “She has already sent you several letters of credit drawn on the banking houses of Solace. Take those as an earnest of more to come. And she has sent me. I am to meet with your people and see if they are serious. If they are, your faction will soon have all the aid it needs from the Courts of the Moon. Silver, weapons, sorcery. Terra Nova will be free from Siderean chains. You will be able to set your own taxes and keep the gold that is mined in your own country. And
a new ruler will hold sway.”

  He glanced pointedly at Orson. Is that what he thinks, thought Orson, that I want to rule the Far Colonies? Why not? King Orson had a fine ring to it. He pushed that thought aside and smiled. “I am sure such aid will not come without strings attached.”

  “We would expect an alliance with the new nations of Terra Nova, of course, and freedom of religion for those who would follow the true faith.”

  Orson shrugged. He did not care about the religious wars; such things were more Count Balthazar’s concern than his. He cared about wealth, and most of all, about staying alive to enjoy it. Lunar treasure and Lunar weapons would let him do that. “You have a ready answer for everything. I am not sure I trust you.”

  “Is there anything I can do to change that?”

  “I am sure I will think of something soon enough.” Orson considered the possibilities. He had heard all of the dark legends about changelings. He was sure he could find some way to make use of this one’s skills. Perhaps he would not need Count Balthazar’s potions for much longer after all.

  Urag watched them both, so still and silent he might have been part of the furniture. Orson was sure he missed nothing.

  The movement of the ship unsettled Kormak. He felt an occasional distant twinge of nausea. He was not normally prone to sea-sickness, but it was possible that Valen’s Elixir had unsettled his stomach or his balance, or it might be something about the slow roll of this particular tall ship.

  One day at sea down. Another thirteen to go, if they were lucky and the windcaller’s spells worked. The sylphs had all but vanished from sight now. Only if he looked closely could he make out their faint blurred shapes moving among the billowing sails. If he moved closer to them, he felt the protective amulet on his chest grow warm from the eddy currents of their magic.

  Sailors went about their business, clambering through the rigging, standing their watches. Behind them the land was distant. All around was the promise of the open sea. The sky was clear and blue, but he knew how quickly that could change. He found a clear area on the deck and began to do pushups. It had been a long time since he had done any exercise, but this was likely to be the only workout he would get while they sailed.

  As he counted over sixty, a shadow fell on him and he looked up to see a familiar grizzled face. The man was short and dark-skinned with cropped grey hair and hooded brown eyes. He wore the tunic of a Siderean marine, with the silver badge of his rank on his chest. “Sir Kormak, it is a great pleasure to see you again.”

  “Sergeant Terves. I am happy to see you as well. How is it going?” He did another pushup.

  “Well, sir. Well. I am still in Admiral Zamara’s service. Commander of his bodyguard, in fact.”

  “A well-justified promotion.” Kormak gasped slightly as he spoke. He pulled himself into a sitting position and glanced up at Terves. His muscles ached a little. His shoulders felt heavy. He was sweating in the afternoon heat.

  “It is good of you to say so, sir. I must admit I was surprised to see you and Captain Rhiana aboard.”

  Kormak grinned. “I have been dispatched to Terra Nova by King Aemon.”

  “I do not wish to pry, sir,” said Terves, but his stance told Kormak that he would be glad of any information he could get. It would be something to talk about with his fellow soldiers, if nothing else. “I know you have performed services for his majesty in the past. Like that nasty business with the Kraken.”

  Kormak wondered if Terves knew just how important the Kraken’s death had been to the Siderean royal family. The sorcerer had been a bastard of the line, a potential rival claimant to the throne. “I hope it won’t be anything like that.”

  “We all do, sir. From what I’ve heard, Terra Nova can be a dangerous enough place without dark magicians and giant sea monsters.”

  “You have been there before?”

  Terves shook his head. “Most of my service has been south of the Dragon Sea or along the coasts of the Old Kingdoms. This is my first visit to the Far Colonies.”

  “Mine too.”

  “I hope you are prepared for heat, sir, and humidity and biting insects as big as your finger. Mutants and sand demons and cannibal moonchild tribesmen too.”

  “You are trying to scare me, aren’t you, Terves?”

  “I doubt I could do that even if I wanted to, sir. I’ve seen you in any number of tight spots.”

  “And I was glad to have you there.”

  “Good of you to say so, sir. And if I might say so, I am glad to have you with us here. Only…”

  “Only?”

  “Some of the lads is worried, sir. I mean, having a Guardian of the Order of the Dawn present usually means we are expected to encounter monsters or magic or Old Ones.”

  So that was what was eating at the old sergeant, thought Kormak. “Tell them there’s no need to worry on the voyage out, as far as I can tell. My business is in Terra Nova. Not on this ship.”

  Terves smiled and said, “They’ll be glad to hear that, sir.”

  Kormak himself was not so sure. As soon as the words had left his mouth, he felt their wrongness, strong as a foreboding, and he had learned long ago to pay attention to such presentiments of danger.

  The passengers lined the port side of the ship as the late afternoon sun beamed down. Kormak stood with them, watching as Rhiana swam beside the ship. She had no difficulty keeping up. Sometimes her dolphin sported beside her, and she would grab its fin and vanish beneath the waves. Off-duty sailors plunged into the water, diving from the high sides of the ship and ploughing cleanly into the waves. They swam with her and tried to pet the dolphin. She vanished below, and did not emerge until someone shouted from the other side, and she emerged there.

  Kormak wondered why she was doing it. She was drawing attention to herself, and making sure that everyone knew she was not like the gowned ladies who strolled the decks beneath their parasols. He saw some of them looked uneasy, and not a few of their men. There were murmurings about her shamelessness. There were comments about how she was a moonchild. Eyes turned to him and judged him for consorting with her. No one dared mutter about it within earshot.

  Rhiana looked happy though, and that made him happy. She had missed the sea. It was her natural element. She was at home in those waters in a way a land-dweller would never be. Kormak did not even like being on the ship.

  Rhiana pulled herself out of the water, clambering up the rope webbing on the sides. Water dripped from her skin. Her clothes clung to her body, revealing her form. Some of the men came closer to look; some of the women turned away scandalised. Kormak wondered if this was going to cause any trouble on the voyage.

  She sprang over the bannister, landing lithely on her feet, dripping water onto the deck. Kormak pushed through the crowd of admirers around her and made his way to her side.

  “That was refreshing,” she said. “Why did you not join me?”

  “Carrying this sword interferes with my swimming,” Kormak said.

  She laughed and went below. Kormak followed her. The murmurings faded behind him. There might indeed be trouble about this for both of them, but at that moment, he did not care.

  Chapter Eight

  Outside, the night-black ocean sloshed against the side of the ship. The calls of the sailors on watch sounded in the darkness. The chandelier swung over the large oaken table bolted to the cabin floor in the admiral’s dining chamber.

  Hugo arrived bearing a tray with flasks of wine, and plates of sliced bread and olive oil to dip it in. Outside the wind was picking up.

  Zamara sat at the head of the table. Kormak sat to his right. Next to him was Rhiana, across from her was the windcaller. Orson Waters sat next to Zamara on the left hand side. He clapped as the food came in, and smiled at one and all. The big man beamed warmth.

  As Hugo poured the wine, Zamara said, “I am glad you could join us, Goodman Waters.” He turned his goblet around in his hands and studied the huge man hulking over the table, as if wonderin
g how someone with no title had managed to get there.

  “I am honoured to be here,” said Waters. “I am sure there are many more worthy of the privilege of dining with the Captain-General of next year’s treasure fleet.”

  Was there an undertone of mockery in that throaty voice, Kormak wondered? It was hard to tell.

  “Come now,” said Zamara. “You must have seen a score of us come and go.”

  Zamara clearly relished using that us. He knew he was in exalted company. The Admirals of the Treasure Fleet took a share of all the cargoes they transported.

  “I have seen a score of you become very wealthy indeed,” said Waters. “And I sincerely hope that you do too, Admiral Zamara. I am fortunate enough to count some of your predecessors among my friends, and—I am not ashamed to admit—customers.”

  “What exactly do you do, Goodman Waters?” Rhiana asked.

  Waters favoured her with a smile. “I import cloth and spices, and all manner of things from Siderea. I ship back furs and scents and exotic herbs and carvings. I arrange lines of credit for those who cannot do so themselves.”

  “Goodman Waters started off as a goldsmith,” said Windcaller Serena. “He is now a banker to the wealthy. On both sides of the ocean. And not just within Siderea.”

  She spoke with the certainty that she would not offend the merchant. These two knew each other. There was little surprising about that, if Orson Waters often travelled by galleon between Terra Nova and Siderea. He made a gesture of mock humility, placing one huge hand over his heart. “It is true. I have even arranged lines of credit for your order, Sir Kormak.”

  “I am sure Grand Master Darius is suitably grateful.”

  “There is no need for him to be grateful,” said Serena. “Our friend made an ample profit.”

  There was an edge to her words. The two of them might know each other, but they were not necessarily friends. Or perhaps they just wanted people to think that.