“Kalyxis saw us coming is what happened. We weren’t there to recruit help for Altapasaeda; we were delivering its crown to her. And if any alliance comes out of it, I doubt very much we’ll be on the guest list.”
Estrada winced sharply as I spoke, as though the reality of what had happened were a knife drawn across her flesh. “Damn it!” she said, and then, “Damn you, Castilio!” She turned away, took a deep and shuddering breath. “We have to hurry. We need to get back to Altapasaeda.”
“Damn right we do. But first, you need to tell me what these terms you’ve agreed with Ondeges are.”
“I surrendered,” she said, still not looking at me. “Those are the terms. I surrendered and Ondeges makes sure no one gets hurt.”
I glanced after Ondeges, now busy organising the dismantling of his small camp. He struck me as the honourable type, but once we got back to Altapasaeda, it would be Ludovoco calling the shots, not him. How much would Ondeges’s word be worth then?
My eyes wandered further, to where Malekrin stood kicking pebbles at the water’s edge, far enough away from the work to make it clear he had no interest in helping. “Maybe we’ve got grounds for renegotiation now,” I said.
Estrada had followed my gaze. “I’m not even going to ask how you managed to steal the Bastard Prince.”
“Ah. I thought you might recognise the name.” When she finally turned back to look at me, I offered her a weak grin. “The truth is, it was Malekrin’s idea more than mine. Turns out he doesn’t much like being a figurehead in his grandparents’ war.”
“Does he know who he’s dealing with?” Estrada asked.
“You mean, does he know he’s just landed in the lap of the Altapasaedan Palace Guard? No. And I think that until we know where this is going, we should keep it that way. The same goes for Ondeges.”
Estrada nodded thoughtfully. “You might have given us a chance after all, Easie. But until I understand Ondeges’s loyalties a little better, I think you’re right. We have a slim advantage now; let’s try and keep it until we need it.”
As if he’d somehow heard what we’d said, despite the distance and the tumult of waves and the rasping screech of seabirds, Malekrin left off his idle kicking and turned to scowl at us. Then he looked away, back out to sea.
I thought about Kalyxis. I thought about what I’d seen of the King during my brief, unpleasant time in Pasaeda. I thought about how alike they’d seemed in many ways, the similarities of nature that perhaps had drawn them together all those years ago for their brief, disastrous fling — an affair that in due term had unleashed an infant Moaradrid upon the world. All three of them had seemed to me propelled by hatred, utterly disregarding of the little people who happened to stray into their paths. How much of this conflict between Panchessa and Kalyxis was for the reasons they stated, the goals they threw out to their followers? And how much of it was just to sate whatever darkness drove them?
“You know,” I said, “I think it might take more than one barbarian brat to head off this particular war.”
Just as Estrada had told me, her hope for mine and Saltlick’s return had been the only thing keeping the now combined party of freebooters, city guardsmen and palace soldiers from starting back to Altapasaeda.
Thus, while the tide receded and the morning sun rose above the waves, the shoreside camp was hurriedly dismantled and stashed aboard. Navare and his people even worked alongside the palace contingent, though there was obvious distrust and not the slightest camaraderie evident between the two factions.
However, just as my mood began to lift a little at the prospect of leaving Shoan behind, Ondeges strode over to where I was waiting with Saltlick and Malekrin. “I’m sorry,” he said, without preamble, “but there isn’t room for you three on board ship.”
I looked at him with vague horror, and a pained sense of inevitability. So much for Estrada’s truce and my good impressions of Ondeges; here was where the truth came out. We were to be stranded, a handful of discarded pieces in whatever malevolent game the man was playing.
But what Ondeges actually said was, “I suggest you take the giant in that rowboat of yours. We’ve rope enough spare to tow you behind us.”
Malekrin gave him a foul look. “That ‘rowboat’ is…”
I dug an elbow hard into his ribs and, in the moment that bought me, finished, “…just the right size, as it turns out, for the giant, the boy and I.”
Because given a choice between three more days of cramped discomfort and being abandoned on this miserable shore, I knew which option I found more appealing.
As it turned out, Ondeges was right. Unpleasant as it was to be crammed back into Malekrin’s so-called Seadagger, I doubted we had it worse than anyone else. If our ship had been somewhat under-crewed on the journey here, its sister vessel was distinctly cramped with twice the number aboard.
At least our progress was unhindered. The powerful gales that had carried Malekrin’s boat down from Kalyxis’s camp-town were blowing hard as ever, and even overloaded, the ship whipped through the foam-capped water. On the rare occasions that the wind slackened, there was no lack of oarsmen to help pick up the pace. From what little I could discern of life on board, I suspected everyone was glad of whatever work they could get, just to relieve the tension. Even before war had broken out, relationships had never been exactly amicable between city and palace guards, and I almost felt sorry for Mounteban’s freebooters, stuck between the two.
Aboard Seadagger, meanwhile, relationships were only a little less strained. Malekrin had been sulking ever since we’d landed on the beach, and nothing I said relieved his mood — not that I had much interest in trying. As for Saltlick, though I’d spent half an hour in rebandaging his wound as best I could, I could tell he was still in discomfort, perhaps even in constant pain. Given how minimal his conversation was at the best of times, I soon gave up making an effort there as well.
With so little to relieve my boredom and with the confines of my world drawn so small, perhaps it was strange that I didn’t give more thought to the threats closing around me. I hardly seemed to be thinking much at all — but when I did, it certainly wasn’t of what fate awaited us in Altapasaeda, what that snake Mounteban had been up to in our absence, or even of what Kalyxis’s response might have been to finding both her prisoners and her saviour-in-waiting vanished.
Given my unmindfulness, then, it was probably appropriate that it was Malekrin who saw them first.
It was late in the afternoon of our first day. Out of nowhere, stirring me from half-sleep, he pointed towards the northern horizon and said, “So, Grandmother noticed I was missing after all.”
Irritated more than curious, I followed the line of his finger. I could make out the tiniest of black marks against the soft blue of the afternoon sky. Then, having seen one, I realised there was a second, a third, a fourth… and surely more, but the distance made it impossible to count.
“That’s a fleet,” I said. It wouldn’t have surprised me if every boat I’d seen moored to that far northern harbour were upon the waves behind us.
Malekrin smiled unpleasantly. “What exactly did you expect for kidnapping a Shoanish prince?”
My first thought was to warn Estrada, but even as I considered it a shout went up from the ship, and I knew they’d seen what we’d seen. Estrada wouldn’t need me to tell her who our pursuers were. I wondered, though, what explanation she’d offer Ondeges as to why a fleet of Shoanish war boats were suddenly on his tail.
After a while, as much to diffuse his smugness as anything, I said to Malekrin, “I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure Ondeges can keep our lead until Altapasaeda.”
“In that whale? I could catch it in Seadagger,” Malekrin replied with dripping contempt. “No Shoanish boat would lumber in the water like that. How far is it to this Altapasaeda?”