A worried voice entered Tae's head,*Where are you, friend?*
The flaw in Tae's plan became immediately clear. With Imorelda's aid, his sending might reach only one person; but the sailor's reply could possibly travel farther. *Starboard stern.* Tae appreciated the days he had spent listening to dull sailor talk. It had given him the alsona vocabulary he needed.*Please hurry. I can't hold out much longer.* Rising, he gripped the gemstone tightly in his right fist.
Tae heard running footfalls on the deck. A head and torso appeared suddenly around the gunwale, looking into the water.
With all the strength he could muster, Tae rose up and slammed the gemstone against the sailor's left temple. Surprise registered in the man's dark eyes, then he collapsed across the railing. *That wasn't nice.*
Tae ignored Imorelda. The gem crashed against the alsona's head a second time with a sickening crack, stone against skull. Bracing for the weight, Tae slid the limp form over the railing to ease it, as gently as possible, onto his sloping ledge. Blood twined between Tae's fingers and made a sticky tangle in the other man's reddish hair.
Swiftly, Tae wiped his hand and the gemstone on the hem of his own shirt, then tore off a huge piece. *What are you doing?* *Get down, Imorelda.* Tae barely waited for her to obey before whipping off his cloak. He secured the piece of fabric around the alsona's head to cover the wound he had created.
Imorelda paced around them.*What are you doing?* She poked her furry face into the alsona's.*You've practically killed him, and now you're tending his wounds?*
Tae did not want to lose his focus but knew he had to answer the cat or field an ever increasing number of questions. He still needed her to keep him tuned to the alsona or risk missing important announcements that might determine his knowledge or survival.*I'm not tending anything. I'm just trying to keep blood off my new clothes.* Tae refused to think of the alsona as human, only as an enemy. Even as he did,Tae realized the irony of the strategy, the same one the alsona used to justify slaughtering the people of the Westlands.*Imorelda, stay on their level, for now.You need to keep in touch, so we don't lose each other, but I also have to make sure no one has noticed this man's absence.*
Carefully, Tae worked to strip the man of his foreign clothing. The belt came off first, leather with several small, stitched pockets, each holding an item: a utility knife, a handkerchief, rolled twine, a smear of pitch folded into a thick scrap, a few copper coins, dull metal pins, and some small hooks. All things a sailor might use, stored in convenient locations. Tae made a mental note to see if his tailors could fashion something similar for the Eastern navy.
Aside from the belt, and deceptively light cloth shoes, the clothing came off in a single piece that covered the arms, legs, and torso; it fastened with hooks and eyelets in the front. The whole seemed more suitable for sleep than work, except for the fabric itself. It looked and felt like cotton but with a strange, diagonal double-weave that made it thick, tough, and resistant to tearing. Dyed indigo, it hid most stains, including whatever droplets of blood Tae might have missed. The bottom of the pants flared outward, which, Tae supposed, made them easy to doff in an emergency. It also allowed the wearer to roll them all the way above the knee should warm weather or wet conditions require it.
Matrinka had suggested Tae wear captured clothing from alsona killed in the shore skirmishes. Now, Tae was glad he had refused. As he expected, the sailor's garb little resembled the armor of the attacking soldiers, or even their underpadding. It would have taken him much longer to change, because he would have had to doff battle gear, soaked through and unfamiliar in its latching, before dressing. Instead, it took him only a moment to switch clothing, even with his fingers stiff from cold.
The suit fit reasonably well, a bit generous in all parts, but surprisingly comfortable. The shoes molded to the shape of his feet, skimpy on the sides and top but thickly soled to protect them from riggings and loose bits of wood or metal on the deck. Tae had to add a hole to the belt to keep it from sliding off his hips. He finally glanced at the limp and naked alsona, seeing no signs of life. Imorelda had declared him "practically dead," and Tae trusted the cat's judgment. The wound was clearly lethal. Even if he had survived it, the impact with ocean would finish him, and he would sink like a stone without means to protect his airway.
Tae knew he had to work quickly. As the sun came fully up, his actions might become visible to the alsona aboard the other ships. Careful not to tip his own balance, he shoved the body into the sea. The plop of its landing disappeared beneath the normal creaks and splashes of anchored ships.
Tae motioned for Imorelda to climb back onto his shoulders, and she obeyed. He rechecked his wig, still firmly and properly in place. As he inched to the gunwale, wary of nearby soldiers or sailors who might see him emerge from nowhere, he whispered to the cat. "As soon as we're on board, secrete yourself. Don't let anyone see you, but stay near enough to funnel their mind-words to me. Also, be prepared to leave suddenly."
Without waiting for acknowledgment, Tae popped over the railing, dropped Imorelda to the deck, and tried to appear nonchalant.
Almost immediately, a guttural curse and a set of squeaky wheels broke over the normal sounds of the ship. Tae could hear the sailors' mental chatter, instinctively sifting out mood and content. They spoke of normal, mundane matters; if the general's meeting inconve nienced them in any way, they kept their grumblings private, softly spoken by mouth.
Heart pounding, Tae watched the approaching cart and sailor, wondering if he could truly pass himself off as one of them despite his limited vocabulary. If something went wrong, he would have to kill this man, too. With the sun nearly fully risen, and no good place to hide, it would prove a terrible risk.
The plump, red-faced sailor pushing the cart caught sight of Tae and stopped.
Tae held his breath.
"Do you mind giving me a hand?" The voice held just a hint of irritation, as if he had expected Tae to volunteer rather than wait for an invitation.
"Not at all." Tae mimicked the accent with practiced ease and headed toward the sailor. "Is it going to the generals' meeting?"
"Yeah." The sailor grunted as they both put their hands on the bar. "Can't discuss strategy without stuffing their faces with the best we've got."
Tae chuckled. The problem had less to do with the weight of the cart than its poor construction and maintenance. The wheels needed oil.
The alsona glanced over at Tae. "I've never seen you before. Did you come with one of the generals?"
Tae continued to read tone as well as words. The man seemed curious, not accusatory, but Tae still felt his chest squeeze. "Yes." He described one of the men he had seen coming in the rowboats. "Tall guy. Narrow face. Short beard."
"General Fallon?"
Tae sure hoped he wasn't being tested. "You know him?"
The plump man spit. "Know them all by now. It's not like there're a lot of them." He stopped pushing and motioned for Tae to do the same. "Thanks. Can you make sure it doesn't roll while I open the hatch?"
"Sure," Tae said. He got an idea. "In fact, I'll carry the food down for you, if you want to get back to doing other things."
Hand on the hatch ring, the sailor turned toward Tae. "Really? You'd do that."
"Why not? You're working, and I'm doing nothing but waiting."
"All right." The sailor smiled. "Thanks. That would be great." He hesitated. "Oh, hell. I'm going to be honest with you. They're hard to please."
Tae shrugged. "I'll deal with it."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure. I'm used to serving General Fallon. I know how they think."
"Thanks." The sailor hauled on the hatch. Only faint mumbling emerged from below. Apparently, the generals conversed aloud to keep their discussion private. From Tae's experiences the last several days, he had expected that. This once, it would work to his advantage; he would not need Imorelda's help to eavesdrop. "I owe you."