As the blood rush from my brief tussle began to subside, I realised it was clear what I had to do. I’d try to make contact with Estrada, assuming she was alive to be made contact with. As much as the idea of bartering Malekrin had a certain appeal, it might yet prove unnecessary; if Navare and his guardsmen swam out here and secured the boat, we might make our escape without trading either words or blows with the palace soldiers.
Ready to put my plan into action, I spared once last glance for the camp on the shore. I could still see no one, and now that fact sent a vague chill of doubt through me. Did the lack of a sentry mean there was nobody left to guard against? Had I returned too late?
Then I realised someone was there — and likely had been all along.
He’d been standing against one of the tents, indistinguishable in the gloom. I’d only noticed him now because he’d moved a little. As I watched, he did so once more — and I knew with cold certainty that he was looking back, straight at me. He took a full step forward then, outlined before the glimmer of firelight, and bellowed, “Who in the hells are you?”
That he was even asking suggested he’d missed the recent scuffle. Did that mean I could bluff my way out of this? But by the time I’d thought it, a second figure had joined the first, appearing so far as I could judge from the mouth of the second tent. They took half a dozen more quick steps, hurrying towards the line where pale surf scoured the ash grey beach.
“Easie? Is that you?”
The voice was familiar as it was inexplicable. “Estrada?”
“How did you get there?” she called back. “And who’s that with you?”
The questions barely registered. I was too busy looking for anyone aiming a bow or holding a sword in her direction; for any hint at all that she was being threatened by the man behind her. Yet, as my brain began to process what Estrada had said, it struck me that hers wasn’t the tone of someone being intimidated — more that of a woman annoyed at being woken at too early an hour.
Then her question finally sunk in, and I realised she was referring to Malekrin, who’d moved up beside me without my noticing. “This is Malekrin,” I called back. Catching the scowl he threw me, I added, “Though his many friends call him Mal.” I refrained from pointing out that we knew him by an altogether different name; that news could wait until I understood what was going on here.
“And what are you doing?” cried Estrada.
“I’m… We’re… That is…” I coughed into my fist, not sure why I felt so embarrassed when I’d clearly just done something terrifically heroic. “What we’re doing is that I’ve just captured their boat,” I concluded, with all the bravado I could manage.
“Oh, Easie.” Even at such a distance, I recognised all too well the embarrassment in Estrada’s voice. “I think you need to come ashore right now…”
On Estrada’s insistence and against my better judgement, we freed the two palace guardsmen, neither of whom showed much in the way of gratitude. It seemed best to make a hasty exit, so we recovered Malekrin’s boat — in which Saltlick, astonishingly, was still fast asleep — and rowed hastily for the shore.
There, I presented Malekrin to Estrada and finally woke Saltlick, who was both befuddled and overjoyed to see her. Introductions and reunions complete, Estrada took me aside, a little way from the camp, to where a hard-faced and vaguely familiar man stood waiting. “Easie, meet Commander Ondeges,” she said, “captain of the Palace Guard in Altapasaeda.”
Ondeges looked me up and down. “The thief,” he observed, “who stole into the palace.”
“If this is about those bath oils someone vindictively hid in my bag,” I said, as the memory clicked into place, “then I’m afraid I lost them when you shipwrecked us.”
Estrada’s expression turned to one of mortification. “I hope this won’t jeopardise our arrangement?” she asked Ondeges.
To my surprise, Ondeges’s reply was to offer me his hand. “Just now,” he said, “my interests lie more in the future than the past.”
I shook, striving not to wince as his fingers clenched around mine. “You’ve come to… an understanding then?” I managed. “One that doesn’t involve trying to kill each other, I mean?”
“We’ve reached an agreement,” Estrada said. “Commander Ondeges has certain questions regarding the events of recent days that he’d like answering before any more blood is shed.”
It was Ondeges’s turn to look uncomfortable. “My first loyalty was to Prince Panchetto,” he said. “After that…”
He let the sentence trail away, but I thought I’d understood. “Isn’t Ondeges a Castovalian name?” I asked.
Ondeges nodded. “My family live in Altapasaeda. So do the families of many of my men. If I’m to tell them to raise arms against their own people, it’s an order I need to hear from the King himself.”
Taken aback as I was by Ondeges’s honesty, it was easy enough to appreciate his position. Ludovoco had appeared from nowhere and in no time at all had supplanted his command, not to mention plunging Altapasaeda into chaos and potential war; and was it any coincidence that Ondeges had been sent on this mission to the middle of nowhere while Ludovoco stayed behind? No, it was clear why Commander Ondeges might have questions in need of answers; I was only impressed that someone in his position would have sense enough to ask them.
Rather than say that, however, I settled for something more diplomatic. “I’m sorry about the… ah, misunderstanding. The one where we tied up your men and tried to steal your boat, I mean.”
Ondeges’s mouth creased into a smile; for a moment he looked younger, less careworn. “I’m sure it’s not a mistake you’ll make twice,” he said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…” And with that and a nod towards Estrada, he turned back towards the camp.
I watched him go, my thoughts awhirl. Despite everything Ondeges had said, I hadn’t quite let go of the notion that this might be some sort of ambush. Then again, I’d seen firsthand what an insufferable bastard Ludovoco was. Whatever doubts Ondeges might have had about his fellow commander’s presence in Altapasaeda, they were exactly the kind of weakness a skilled ambassador like Estrada could play on.
Which led me to one inescapable conclusion: “I rushed back here for nothing, didn’t I?”
“We’ve been waiting for you since yesterday,” replied Estrada. She had the decency to sound a little guilty.
“That’s gracious of you. Do you realise Saltlick ran himself half to death?”
“I’m sorry, Easie,” she said. “I didn’t know this would happen.”
“Really? No idea at all?”
Estrada gave an awkward half shrug, a gesture that spoke volumes in itself. “I had to try talking. If it meant avoiding fighting and more people being hurt, of course I did. I had no way to know Ondeges would listen.”
“So, in a sense,” I said, “we were really just the backup plan?”
“Not at all. We still needed you to get help for Altapasaeda.”
Shit! I’d been so quick to castigate Estrada for sending me on yet another fool’s errand that I’d forgotten just how horribly I’d botched that part of my mission. Of course, thanks to my actions, there was a fair chance Kalyxis actually would have sent some of her warriors our way — but it was safe to assume that helping us would be the last thing on their minds. Perhaps I wasn’t in a position to be hurling criticisms after all.
Then again, when had that ever stopped me? “That didn’t go so well,” I said. ‘“How would it, when Mounteban sent us into a trap? Well, of course he did, he’s Mounteban. Only a moon-eyed imbecile would think to trust him for even a second.”
Estrada glared at me. “Just tell me what happened.”