‘I did escort the Warleader to the princess’s tent,’ he said. ‘He brought his chest of phials and powders and exotic dusts. I’ve no doubt she’s dreaming pleasant dreams right now.’
‘And the Warleader?’
Scarza’s round face drew down. ‘Well, returned to his tent. Or watching over the progress of the patient.’
Jatal motioned up the lane. ‘Let me pass.’
‘Now, lad …’
‘Lad?’ Jatal sent his harshest glare.
Scarza scratched his unkempt mess of hair, sighing. ‘Ah, Prince,’ he sighed. ‘There’s no need …’
Jatal pushed past the man, who made no further effort to intervene. Jatal left him standing there, frowning down at the wineskin in his knotted hands, his thick brows crushed together and his lips pressed tight over his prominent tusks.
A picket of Vehajarwi knights stopped him before he reached the tent. Jatal recognized the captain of Andanii’s bodyguard. ‘What do you want, Hafinaj?’ this one demanded.
Jatal chose to overlook the failure to offer his full title. ‘I wish to offer my regards to the princess. And we have matters of command to discuss.’
The captain shook his head. ‘She left orders she wasn’t to be disturbed.’
‘She will receive me. Send word.’
‘No. Her orders were clear. No one.’
No one save the damned Warleader! Jatal gritted his teeth. ‘You cannot forestall me. As commander-’
The captain looked to the men and women of his contingent. His lips drew back in scorn. ‘You command none here among us Vehajarwi.’
Jatal had no idea what to do next. Such an insult demanded a challenge yet that would destroy the alliance. Here, on the very doorstep of their victory. The slap of the man’s disrespect was like ice down his back and he felt a strange calm descend upon him. He nodded thoughtfully. ‘I see. You are a loyal dog following your mistress’s command. I understand such devotion.’ He gave the faintest of bows. ‘Another time, then.’
The captain watched him narrowly now, uncertain. He glanced to his fellows as if searching for guidance. Jatal turned and walked away. After he had gone a few paces laughter rang through the night — mockery following some insulting murmured comment, no doubt. The iciness gave way to a burning furnace heat that started somewhere in Jatal’s belly and rose all the way to sear his face and brow. He continued on stiff legs, a strange blurriness to his vision.
They think I will swallow these insults because I am a weakling — scholar, philosopher and poet. Well, we shall see. There will come a time and I will show them who is weak.
* * *
It seemed to Shimmer that the strange creatures of the jungle had lost interest in them. Perhaps she and her companions had lost their novelty; or they had travelled beyond the creatures’ territory; or perhaps they were at last drawing near to Ardata and the hidden city of Jakal Viharn. In any case, when she studied the passing vine-hung jungle she glimpsed only mundane animals among the trees and stands of grasses at the shore.
One afternoon her breath caught as they glided noiselessly past a stand of dense brown grasses and there in the midst a great cat crouched at the shore lapping up a drink. It was fully the size of a pony, coloured tawny brown, with enormous fangs that curved down alongside its muzzle. The fanged cat Rutana had mentioned, she imagined. Such beauty and murderous grace bound together. It galled her, but she had to admit that it reminded her of Skinner.
For a time a troop of bearded monkeys shadowed their progress. They employed all their limbs — tails included — to hang from branches far out over the water to investigate the ship as it drifted by. The vessel’s ghostly silence must have emboldened them. She, K’azz, Amatt, and Cole watched without speaking or moving as the troop clambered down bent limbs to study them with their large liquid brown eyes.
When one reached out a delicate hand to touch the vessel’s side Rutana finally snarled and waved her arms, sending them scattering in a burst of howling shrieking panic. Blazingly bright parakeets and macaws erupted from the nearby cover. They swooped over the river as streaks of snow-white, flaming red and iridescent blue.
‘Damned animals,’ the woman grumbled. ‘I hate them.’
‘Animals in general, or monkeys in particular?’ Shimmer asked.
Rutana just turned away, muttering beneath her breath.
‘We almost had a new crew,’ K’azz commented to Shimmer, startling her: it had been so long since he spoke.
She nodded her agreement. ‘I’ve heard stories of vessels crewed by monkeys. A traveller told of how he’d met someone who swore seeing such a ship arrive in Darujhistan.’
K’azz leaned on the railing. ‘Seeing that would make me wonder more … wherever would such a ship set sail from?’
Shimmer crooked a smile. ‘Why, from the Land of the Monkey-King, of course.’
K’azz inclined his head to the jungle. ‘Something tells me we’re not so far from such a land.’
Shimmer lost her smile. ‘Perhaps not. Monkey-Queen, then?’
‘Queen, yes. Monkeys, no.’
The Serpent rocked then, quite gently, as if brushing over a sandbar, and Shimmer and K’azz shared alarmed glances. They peered over the edge to study the passing murky-ochre waters. Gwynn and Lor-sinn appeared from below. Shimmer noted how the old mage’s white hair had grown to a remarkable extent, hanging about his head and shoulders like a great mane, while Lor-sinn appeared to have lost almost all her plumpness and now stood lean and bony in her oversized robes.
A scouring and grating sounded from below and everyone was jerked forward as the bows jumped upwards and the Serpent came to a sudden halt in midriver. A rotted spar fell from the shard of the forward mast to crash to the deck. Turgal, Cole and Amatt did not even flinch though the wreckage missed them by a bare arm’s length.
‘We are run aground?’ Lor-sinn wondered aloud.
‘In the middle of the channel?’ Rutana answered, derisive.
Shimmer noticed that the jungle surrounding them was very quiet. The birds were silent, and no animal hooted or roared. It was as if everything that lived among the trees and shore was suddenly tensed, listening.
In the spell of suspended motion — Shimmer somehow feeling as if they were still moving — K’azz stepped quietly to Cole’s side. ‘Check the hull,’ he murmured.
The short barrel-shaped swordsman flashed a smile of assent and headed for the companionway. Rutana snapped her fingers for Nagal’s attention then waved to the bow. The unnaturally large man — perhaps, Shimmer speculated, carrying a touch of the ancient Thelomen blood — actually crouched and edged forward as if wary of attack. The sight of that wariness sent a thrill of fear down Shimmer’s spine. What is it they dread?
Cole emerged from below and Shimmer glanced to him then could not look away. The swordsman, almost always ready with a smile or a joke, now stood as if bewildered, confusion and unease wrinkling his face.
‘Yes?’ K’azz urged the man.
‘Hull’s gone in the bottom,’ he murmured, and he rubbed his brow. ‘Looks like it rotted away long ago.’
‘How then-’ Shimmer began but a hiss from Nagal silenced her. He then cast a scathing glare to Rutana who winced and clamped a hand on the amulets tied round her arm and squeezed there, as if massaging a wound. Shimmer dared a step towards the bow and Rutana let out a low snarl of warning: she ignored it and took one more. Closer to the pointed bow she could see that the Serpent had fetched up on some sort of sandbar or bank. Though what such a feature was doing here near the middle of the river she had no idea.
She blew out her breath in disgust. Gods! What are these two on about? She turned to K’azz. ‘It’s just a-’ she was silenced again, this time by Nagal snapping up a hand. He eased the hand down to the water as if inviting her to peer closer. Shimmer leaned out over the side. She squinted to see past the dazzling glimmer of the light on the waves and it seemed to her that the sandbar curved downward, disappearing into the darkness of the river rather than shallowing at its edges. In fact, the obstruction now struck her as the shape of a submerged cylinder, like an immense log of titanic scale, fully as large around as their ship itself. Yet pale as if carved of marble. More detail reached her and she backed away, her hand going to her throat. She turned a mute stare of awe on Rutana.