“Is that the ship?” I saw an ocean vessel drawn up on the shingle strand of Suthyfer’s best anchorage.
“That’s Den Harkeil’s.” Ryshad pointed to a ram’s head carved on the stern rail.
Halice scowled. “Hardly fit to sail.” The wheeling magic showed us where planking had been stripped from the ribs of the ship, leaving it broken like the carcass of a dead animal.
“What do they want the wood for?” As I wondered, Allin sent the spell searching across from the shore. We saw crude shelters sprawling over the grass, some canvas, others built from hatch covers and doors. Chests and casks were stacked beneath crude nets weighted with pulley blocks.
“Who are they?” Halice put careful hands behind her back as she bent closer to study small figures, some barefoot in shirtsleeves with an air of purpose, others more leisurely in boots and cloaks.
“Pirates,” said Ryshad coldly. “Scum of the seas.”
“Where’s Parrail?” Guinalle’s eyes went from the image to Allin and back, frustration chasing anxiety across her face.
“I’m looking for Naldeth.” Allin’s voice was tight with concentration.
It was like flying over the camp on the back of some seabird. The spell carried us to the edge of the scrub that fringed the forests and we saw a rough-hewn stockade below.
“They’re not just stopping to take on water,” murmured Halice.
Ryshad glowered. “Who’s inside there?”
Splintered spikes and the heavy gate were no barrier to Allin’s magic. We surveyed the crushed captives within.
“That’s him.” I hadn’t seen Naldeth since the year before last but a gambler cultivates a memory for faces.
“Parrail.” Guinalle cupped her cheeks with her hands, eyes dark with distress.
“Allin, can you show us the anchorage again? Looking north.” The mage-girl nodded at Ryshad’s request and the shifting image made my stomach lurch.
“That’s their ship.” He nodded. “The Tang.”
We saw a second ship anchored in the sound. “They’re not stripping that one for timber,” I commented.
“They’re looting the cargo.” Halice pointed to laden longboats heading for shore.
“But Kellarin wants those things,” said Guinalle with anguish.
“And the pirates want the ship.” Halice pointed at a scarlet pennon snapping at the top of the mainmast.
“With all those wharf rats to crew it, they’re not worried about killing the original company.” Ryshad scowled as a longboat’s oar shoved a floating corpse aside.
Halice hissed as a sleek-hulled, single-decked pinnace appeared in the sound, followed by two substantial ocean ships built and rigged for speed. All three flew the scarlet flag with the black line of the snake device. “That’s a god-cursed fleet.”
“I’m sorry,” Allin gasped as the image abruptly blinked into nothingness.
“We’ve seen enough,” Ryshad assured her. “I’m getting D’Alsennin.”
As he turned on his heel, the rest of us stood in pensive silence.
Halice looked at Allin. “Could you bespeak Naldeth?”
“And let everyone know he’s a wizard?” I looked sceptically at her. There were some advantages to the more discreet workings of Artifice.
Halice grimaced. “Which could get him killed out of hand.”
“Can’t you lift him out of there?” I asked Allin. Shiv’s wizardry had once got me out of a prison cell.
“Not without a nexus,” the mage-girl said sadly. “Not so far away.”
“The Elietimm used Artifice to move people over great distances.” Halice looked at Guinalle. “Could you—”
“I cannot rely on the strength of the aether over such a distance, not over water.”
The two magic wielders looked at each other with mutual regret.
“We’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way then,” I said bracingly.
“Pirates?” Temar hurried in, open face betraying his shock.
“Holding Suthyfer, if we don’t do something to shake them loose.” Halice moved to pick up the map Ryshad had been studying.
“How soon can we set sail?” Temar planted his hands on the table.
Halice looked up. “You’re not thinking of going in alone?”
Temar jutted a single-minded jaw. “We’ve the Eryngo and the coast ships besides and men enough to fill them with blades.”
“Ploughmen and artisans.” Halice stuck her thumbs through her belt, clasping her buckle. “We need trained swords against pirates, my lad.”
“I led my cohort—”
Ryshad spoke over Temar’s hot indignation. “Granted the Eryngo’s bigger than the pirate ships we’ve seen so far but it’s also heavier, higher and slower. They’ll run rings round us if we’re not careful.”
“The coasters are more nimble.” But Temar was looking less sure of himself.
Ryshad gestured at the blank bowl. “No more than the Tang and they captured that.”
“We need a full corps of mercenaries,” stated Halice firmly.
“How long will that take to arrange?” Ryshad demanded. “Give that lot half a season to dig themselves in and we’ll never get them out. Speed’s as important as weight of response.”
“Can you whistle up ships loaded with fighting men?” demanded Halice.
“Yes,” replied Ryshad. “As soon as Allin has Casuel tell D’Olbriot the peril we’re facing.”
“Casuel can send letters to all the corps commanders who owe me favours,” countered Halice. “He can use the Imperial Despatch.”
“No.” Temar was almost as pale as Guinalle had been. “I won’t run to D’Olbriot like some child failing his lessons. Nor will I put Kellarin any deeper in anyone’s debt, not Tormalin princes or mercenaries, not unless my back’s to Saedrin’s threshold.”
Halice and Ryshad turned on him like twin halves of a double door.
“We call the miners down from Edisgesset.” Temar lifted his chin defiantly.
“Where do we find swords for them all?” Halice challenged.
I raised a reluctant hand. “If you bring all the miners down here, who guards the prisoners in the diggings?”
That silenced everyone.
“They have all given their parole. None is a threat.” Guinalle’s voice shook.
Ryshad, Halice and Temar studiously avoided each other’s eyes. I was glad they all realised this was no time to reopen that particular argument.
Allin had no such qualms. “They came here to kill everyone. They’re Ice Islanders!”
“They surrendered as soon as their leaders were killed,” Guinalle insisted.
Which was true and, Saedrin forgive me, had been cursed inconvenient. Seeing no prospect of ransoming them back to the Elietimm, Halice had been for killing them out of hand and Ryshad would have called that deserved execution under the fortunes of war but Temar had baulked at yet more bloodshed. So the silent, sullen captives had been sent upriver to dig for ore under the watchful gaze of miners used to a life of hard knocks. Accident and disease was culling them fairly effectively from what I heard, if not fast enough to suit Halice. Guinalle on the other hand protested such treatment every time she visited Edisgesset to torment herself over the sleeping figures still in the cavern. Temar did his best to ignore both issues by seldom going up river at all.
“D’Olbriot can send all the help you need,” Ryshad told Temar firmly. “Or if you’re worried about being obligated, call on Tadriol. He’s your overlord, you’re entitled to his aid.”
“Which makes his suzerainty plain in fact as well as in theory,” Temar retorted. “If Tormalin blood’s shed for Kellarin, half the Sieurs who wanted to throw us off here last year will insist Tadriol claim a share in our land and offer their own people to defend it for him.”
“We can call up a couple of mercenary corps as quick as any Imperial cohorts,” interjected Halice. “Once they’re paid off, that’s an end to it.”