The shouting now was like the mayhem of a town besieged by pirates. Children and parents all screaming, dogs howling, maddened; everyone running away. The exodus from the Chathrand was almost complete: only a score of guards remained on the topdeck.
“What were you doing aboard?” demanded Ott.
“Looking for gold,” said the prince, “to bribe the Issar on your behalf. I do not know what he intends to do with you, gentlemen, but despite the repairs to your vessel I doubt strongly that he means to let you go on your way. Ibjen and I have spoken often of your plight since we jumped ship. You made a deep impression on the boy, Mr. Stanapeth-you, and Fiffengurt, and your three younger allies. Ibjen has the idea that there are riches aboard, and Mr. Bolutu, whom I visited this morning (he remains locked up with your shipmates, incidentally), confirmed it, though he has no idea where they might be hidden. It occurred to me that they might be in the stateroom, for where else could they be safer than behind the wall? But I found nothing: only your rat-friend, Felthrup. He is in a curious state of mind himself.”
“You took a grave risk for us,” said Hercol, but his voice was still uncertain.
“And nearly died for it,” said Ibjen. “Counselor Vadu is a traitor! He has raised his hand against the royal family!”
“Strange, isn’t it?” said Ott. “A man in his position will have thought hard about that law, and especially the words on pain of death. All the same he decided it was time to kill you. Though he feared to wield the knife himself.”
“And so hired assassins,” said Olik, nodding, “and presumably meant to have them killed in turn. But it was still an astonishing move. I wonder what else was in that message? Does the Emperor himself wish me killed? And if death is to be my fate, what can they mean to do with you?”
“I know what Bali Adro means to do with us,” said Hercol. “I have learned it this very night.”
“You have?” snapped Sandor Ott. “From whom? When were you going to tell us, damn your eyes?”
“As soon as we found a moment’s safety,” said Hercol. “But I will not tell you, prince. I am glad we saved you, but I cannot give you my trust: not after your words in the doorway of the stateroom.”
“Hercol Stanapeth,” said the prince, “that is exactly why I spoke them. I dared not leave you thinking well of me. Arunis was spying on your thoughts-crudely, but persistently. If trust and warmth had been uppermost in your minds, he would have known at once that I was his enemy, and turned Vadu against me that much sooner. But he has fled now. He has betrayed Vadu and the Issar, and stolen the Nilstone, and disappeared. And now I may stand before you and speak the simple truth. I am one of your number, swordsman: a foe of Arunis and the Raven Society, and a friend of Ramachni. I would be your friend also.”
“Well that’s blary scrumptious,” said Alyash, “but what are we to do about the Nilstone?”
Hercol turned to Olik. “You say that Vadu told you he’d searched the ship?”
“Deck by deck,” said the prince. “There was no sign of Arunis. Vadu was convinced the mage had taken refuge behind the magic wall. I tried to explain the impossibility of that, but I am not sure he believed me.”
Hercol looked from the prince to Ott, and back again. “I may yet regret this choice,” he said, “but I think you are exactly what you claim. Prince Olik Bali Adro, here is what I know: Arunis has made magical contact with a sorceress almost as powerful as himself. Someone close to your Emperor by the name of Macadra.”
“Macadra!” The prince started forward in terror. “The White Raven! Are you sure?”
“Let me finish,” said Hercol. “She has dispatched a ship for Masalym; it is to arrive any day. And when it does the crew of that ship is to take possession of the Chathrand, and sail with it, and the Nilstone, back to where she waits in your capital.”
“Flames of the Pit!” shouted Ott, enraged. “How long have you known this, Stanapeth?”
“Not two hours,” said Hercol. “But there is yet a little more. Rivalry may well exist between Arunis and Macadra, but they both intend to see the Nilstone used to dominate or destroy the lands we come from. Not Arqual alone, Master Ott. I mean all lands north of the Ruling Sea. And Arunis, perhaps, does not mean for it to end even there.”
“By the eyes of heaven,” said the prince, “you do come at the time of the world’s ending! You have brought both the devil and his tool into our midst, and now our own devils are joining the game.”
He checked himself with a sigh. “No, that is not fair. Arunis is our devil as much as anyone’s, and the Nilstone has plagued both sides of the Ruling Sea, and the Chathrand was built in Bali Adro herself. How small the world becomes, when we contemplate its doom.”
“I don’t understand,” said Ibjen. “Why would Arunis steal the Nilstone if he is a friend to those who are coming from Bali Adro City?”
“A fine question,” said Olik. “Arunis and Macadra founded the Raven Society together, and have long worked side by side. But if it is true that jealousy has arisen between them-well, that at least could be called good fortune.”
“It would have been better fortune,” said Alyash, gazing up at the Chathrand, “if that nutter on the quarterdeck had started to crow a little sooner. Have a look at the Gray Lady now, will you?” He gestured at the Chathrand. “Nine guards, maybe ten. We could blary walk aboard unchallenged.”
Hercol grew suddenly still. “Or… walk off,” he said.
He glanced sharply at Ott, and the spymaster felt his heart quicken again. “The pump room,” he said. “The hidden chamber. If Arunis slipped back in there, right after snatching the stone-”
“Alyash,” said Hercol, “stay with the prince.”
“I’ll be Pit-pickled if I will, you mucking-”
“Do it,” said Ott, and then they were racing, flying for the plank that led ashore, leaving behind the two dlomu and the swearing bosun, and the weird alien port flashed by as in a dream, and the dlomu on the deck saw them coming and cried out, and fired arrows that splintered on the stones beside their feet, and the joy of it, the joy of the horror, came back to Ott, as his old, old body strained to keep up with his protege, and just managed, though the price was fire in his chest and a throat so raw it felt torn by fangs.
But when they gained the topdeck, ready to fight any dlomu that braved their onslaught, a death-scream rose above the general mayhem. It came from the far side of the Chathrand’s berth. Ott saw a terrible suspicion bloom in Hercol’s eyes. They raced the hundred yards from port to starboard and looked down.
Arunis was there on the quayside, mounted, a freshly murdered soldier by the horse’s hooves. Their sprint to the Chathrand had distracted the only guards brave enough to remain aboard. They had made it possible for Arunis to escape.
Hercol spun around in search of a bow to fire, but the sorcerer was already galloping away, galloping into the dark sprawl of the Lower City, a small round bundle held tight to his chest.
Masters and Slaves
5 Modobrin 941
“Gone out?” said Ignus Chadfallow. “What under Heaven’s Tree do you mean?”
“Be quiet,” said Pazel, “you’ll wake the others.”
It was still very dark, though a pale husk of morning light wrapped the sky to the east. “Gone out,” repeated the doctor. “For a stroll, is it? Did the birdwatchers lend them a key?”
“They went over the wall. Ott escaped the pavilion some time ago, or maybe he hid and was never captured at all.”
“And Hercol and Thasha went off with that monster? Just like that?”
“They didn’t want to, Ignus,” said Pazel. “But Pitfire, how else are we going to get out of here? And they made Ott leave the rope behind.” He gestured at the corner of the wall, then waved desperately at the doctor. “Quiet! The blary birdwatchers are going to learn all about it if you can’t keep your voice down.”