Muredarch’s smile broadened with growing confidence. “You’ll be hoping to trade across the ocean, when you get this colony of yours on its feet. I could run a nice watering station for you here, offer a place where cargoes could be bought and sold maybe. That would cut everyone’s journeys. Surely, that would be worth a share in the coin you’ll all be earning? Good anchorage, secure warehousing and the men to make sure everyone keeps honest would look a handsome offer to most merchants I know.”
“I find it a remarkable offer from a pirate who’s been preying on our ships,” Temar replied with chilly formality.
“What if I agreed to leave your ships well alone? You don’t bother me; I don’t bother you. No, wait, I can do more for you than that.” A confiding note warmed Muredarch’s voice. “You’ll be a powerful rival to Inglis inside a few years, if you’ve any sense. They won’t like that, now will they? There’ll be letters of marque issued against your ships; they’ll find some reason to do it. If I were to be sitting here, a few good ships to back me, I could turn hunters into hunted. Curtailing the Inglis trade at your nod, I could improve your markets just when you needed it.”
“I hardly think so,” said Temar coldly.
“You know what they’re saying around Inglis, do you? And Kalaven, Blacklith?” Muredarch challenged him, beard jutting. “That you’re an untried boy holding one small corner of a vast land, gold in the rivers for the picking, gems in the sands of the beaches. They’re saying land and riches are for the taking, for anyone with the courage to risk the ocean. What are you going to do when ships land up your coast and set up a town for themselves? I could put a stop to all that before it starts and no one will write me off as some weakling.” The threat in his last words was unmistakable.
Temar matched his forcefulness. “Why should I grant you anything when you have stolen my colony’s goods and made slaves of innocent people?”
“You do have some spirit!” Muredarch laughed. “You want those people back? They’re building my trade town for me just now.” His face turned sly. “Well, perhaps that’s a trade we can discuss. I need rope, sailcloth, pitch for a start.”
“You misunderstand me,” Temar told him coldly. “You surrender your prisoners and your loot and then I will consider letting you live rather than hanging you for the crows for your crimes.”
“There’s spirit and then there’s foolhardiness, lad.” Muredarch scowled at Temar. “Don’t think you’ve got the hand on the whipstaff here. What makes you think you can do anything to stop me?”
“This parley is over.” Temar addressed himself to Halice, striving to equal his long-dead grandsire’s autocratic manner.
She nodded and turned to the helmsman.
“You’re young and you’re foolish, boy,” Muredarch shouted angrily. “Shame you won’t live to learn the error of your ways.” As quick as the snake on his pennant, he whipped a hand back and threw a knife at Temar. The small blade flew hard and accurate before a gust of wind suddenly flung it upward. As it fell to the water, everyone saw the blade bend back on itself, crushed by unseen hands before it disappeared into the depths.
Temar shook his head slowly. “You forget that I have other advantages to counter your years and experience. You’re as much a prisoner here as those unfortunates you’ve kidnapped. Don’t think your little ship can slip past our blockade.” He flicked a contemptuous hand at the sloop, barely two-thirds the beam or length of the Dulse.
“You’d do that, would you?” Muredarch sounded interested. “Run away and leave your men to die unheeded? No, my lad, I’ll be leaving here with all my men and all your goods and in my own good time.” The pirate didn’t look in the least disconcerted. “I have magic to call on too, boy.”
“We’re leaving.” Temar gestured to Halice. The Dulse surged forward, heeling away from the single-masted ship. Temar hurried to the afterdeck, to keep the pirate in sight. “None of you let any magelight slip,” he said anxiously as Usara joined Larissa and an implacable swell gathered to drive Muredarch back between the islands.
The mages looked at each other with some amusement. “No, we’ll be careful,” Larissa assured him.
“I wish I knew I could set a magic working and just leave it like that.” Guinalle watched the seas push the sloop down the strait.
“It’s not an easy as it looks,” Usara said with feeling. “And a spell left unchecked can cause chaos, believe me. Azazir—”
“Magical theory can wait.” Halice tapped him on the shoulder. “Where does this leave us, Messire?”
“He won’t leave things like this, will he?” Temar gnawed on a thumbnail. “We make sure he goes nowhere and see what he comes up with next time?” He looked for agreement.
“He certainly thinks you’ll trade something for the prisoners,” Guinalle said slowly.
“Can we ask for Naldeth by name?” asked Larissa, hopeful.
“Not without Muredarch doubling whatever price he puts on his head,” Halice told her tartly.
“I would not make any deal with him, over anyone,” Guinalle said with evident distress. “He has no intention of keeping his word about anything.”
“I hardly need Artifice to tell me that,” said Temar without thinking. He smiled hastily at her but Guinalle was too preoccupied to notice.
“He’s a pure opportunist,” she continued. “No fool and not given to ill-considered impulse, so we mustn’t make that mistake. He can plan ahead and on a grand scale; he’s determined to make himself overlord of some free traders’ fiefdom in these islands. He’s quite confident he can do it. But that’s as much as he intends. He doesn’t see himself ruling Kellarin for instance, just plundering it judiciously.”
“Where do the Elietimm fit in to his plans?” demanded Temar.
“He really has no idea what he’s dealing with.” Surprise and concern coloured Guinalle’s reply. “He sees them as a tool for his use and believes them entirely loyal to his ambitions.” She smiled without humour. “They have made sure of that. As far as Muredarch knows, Ilkehan is sole ruler of another group of islands, a predator on trade and the Dalasorian coasts much the same as himself, just more successful at keeping himself hidden. He sees him as an equal and a potential ally in gaining a stranglehold on as much ocean trade as possible.”
“So what do we do now?” Temar looked from Usara to Halice and back again.
Halice didn’t seem to see it warranted a question. “Keep them penned in until Ilkehan’s dead. Go in and kill the lot of them.”
“Couldn’t we trade a few things?” Guinalle pleaded. “Not enough to get a ship seaworthy but just to get a few people safely out of there.”
“This isn’t a game of Raven,” Halice warned her. “Don’t try being too clever; we’re dealing with real lives and deaths.”
“We want him concentrating on us, don’t we?” Temar looked at her. “Even with this other Elietimm leader’s help, it going to take time for Livak and Ryshad to reach Ilkehan’s keep. Then they’ve to find some way of killing the man. Keeping him talking might keep that pirate off balance. Then our final attack will be all the more effective, if they’re wrong-footed.”
Halice nodded with a twinkle in her eye. “A fair point, for someone trained in the Imperial cohorts.”
“If Muredarch’s concentrating on us and our deeds, those enchanters will be doing the same,” Usara said seriously to Guinalle who was still looking upset. “That should draw Ilkehan’s attention south and lessen any chance of him suspecting attack closer at hand. Do you want to sit down? Shiv was showing me how he helped Livak—”
But the noblewoman shook off his hand and went to stand at the very stern of the Dulse, looking out over the waves towards Suthyfer.
“Come on, ’Sar.” Temar ducked as the mizzen sail unfurled above him with a rattle of canvas and ropes. “Let’s get back to our island and work out how best to make Muredarch’s life difficult, shall we?”