"Tyranny has brought you a pair of gifts," Tristan added softly. "She agreed with me that they probably belong here in the palace, where they could be protected."
He gave Geldon a nod, and the two of them left the room for a moment. When they returned, they were helping each other carry two rather unwieldy packages. Each was wrapped in bloody sailcloth and tied securely with ship's rope. They placed them on the table before Wigg, then sat down again.
The lead wizard raised an eyebrow. "What are they?"
"The only way you're going to know is by opening them," Tristan answered, a smile on his face. "As far as I know, even you and Faegan can't see through things."
From the other side of the table, Faegan gave one of his wry cackles. "Don't be so sure."
Wigg looked down at the crudely wrapped packages. He couldn't imagine what they might be. Nor could he remember the last time anyone had given him something, for that matter. Narrowing his eyes, he called on the craft. Almost immediately, the sailor's knots began to untie themselves. As they did, Tristan looked over at Tyranny and Scars to see that their eyes had become as big as saucers.
As the sailcloth was unwrapped, it revealed a worn ship's wheel-the one Tristan had ordered taken from The People's Revenge just before she went down. The other package contained the wooden-and-brass plaque that listed not only all the names of those who had commanded the Resolve, but also the various other vessels the wheel had been passed down to over the centuries by the Welborne family.
Rather high up on the list, it said, wigg, lead wizard of the directorate of wizards. commander of the resolve. The last entry read, tyranny of the house of welborne. captain of the people's revenge.
The wizard's eyes welled up with tears as he ran his ancient fingers over the engravings. He then looked up at Tyranny with genuine affection.
"My greatest thanks, child," he said softly, his voice cracking. "I couldn't possibly know how to repay you."
Pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, Tristan looked over at Tyranny. "Actually," he began, "there is a way…"
"And that would be?" Faegan asked suspiciously.
Tristan indicated to Tyranny that she should hand over the promissory note. When she gave it to him, he unfolded it and passed it over to the lead wizard.
As Wigg read the note, his eyes went wide. He remembered all that Tristan had just told them about his recent adventures, though, and his expression softened a bit. Still, he wasn't convinced that such a huge amount should be paid.
He finally passed the note over to Faegan, who scanned the page. With a cackle, he handed it to Shailiha. Everyone around the table eventually read it. After they had, quiet settled in as they all waited for the lead wizard to speak. Wigg looked down at the ship's wheel and plaque again, then back up at the sea captain.
"Forgive me, Tyranny, but I simply must ask," Wigg said quietly. "Did you give me these gifts just to soften my mood?"
"No," Tristan interjected firmly. "It was all my idea." Then he smiled. "Still, I didn't think it would hurt."
Wigg shook his head adamantly. "Tristan, surely you must realize what a huge sum this is!" he countered. "I fully understand that it is the identical amount that was once offered for your capture, and as such it may therefore possess some small degree of justification. But such a sum is without precedent in the entire history of Eutracia! Such a reward would make Tyranny the wealthiest woman-nay, perhaps even the wealthiest person-in the entire nation!"
But Tristan wasn't about to back down. She had saved his life twice. And he had given her his word. A deal was a deal. Leaning over the tabletop, he looked Wigg directly in the eyes.
"Then it's a good thing we're all sitting in the Chamber of Supplication, isn't it?" he asked Wigg seriously. "What better place to grant such a request?" He leaned back in his chair and looked around the table again. "Besides," he said shortly, "there are other things I wish her to have, as well. Things that are now in our own best interests to provide."
"And just what might those be?" Faegan asked.
"I want the two of you to grant her letters of marque, just as you once did for Isaac," Tristan said. "These times we live in are no less dangerous than then-perhaps even more so. I want you to draw the papers up immediately. They are to validate her rights as a privateer to prowl the waters off the coast of Eutracia, and to attack and commandeer any demonslaver vessels she might run across, and any pirate ships that might have slipped away during our recent battle. Despite the efficiency of the Minion fleet, given the great scope and confusion of yesterday's confrontation I would be very surprised if at least several of the raiders' vessels hadn't eluded us. In return, Tyranny is to give over three-fourths of whatever booty she collects to the monarchy. The remainder she is free to do with as she wishes."
Wigg looked over at Tristan. "Is this all you want?" he asked sarcastically.
"As a matter of fact, there is one more thing," the prince answered boldly. "But it is no less important." He glanced over at Tyranny to see a look of surprise on her face. "She and I haven't discussed this last issue, but I hardly think she'll mind." He faced Wigg again.
"Of the pirate vessels that were captured and are now being escorted home by the Minion fleet, I shall give her one dozen," he went on. "I shall also order my Minions to make whatever repairs the vessels might require, while Tyranny goes about hiring the additional crewmembers she will need." He looked back to Tyranny again, and now it was her turn to smile. Tristan gave her a wink.
Stunned, Wigg sat back in his chair. As usual, Faegan produced a broad smile at Wigg's discomfiture.
"I hope you have a very good reason for all of this," the lead wizard finally replied, his voice little more than a whisper.
"As a matter of fact, I do," Tristan replied. Reaching down into his boot, he withdrew the ancient scrap of vellum and unceremoniously placed it in the center of the table.
"A simple piece of vellum?" Wigg asked quizzically. "I don't understand."
"I believe this came from the Scroll of the Vagaries," Tristan said. "I found it hidden in my boot. It was secretly placed there by someone while I was unconscious. It matches identically the color and texture of the Scroll of the Vagaries I saw atop Krassus' desk on board his ship. It was clear that pieces had been cut away from it, and I believe this to be one of them. I think the pieces are being used by Grizelda, Krassus' herbmistress, in an attempt to find the Scroll of the Vigors. If that's true, it puts them far ahead of us in this race, I'm afraid. Indeed, for all we know they may have already found it. Someone is trying to help us-that much seems certain. But I don't know who that might be. In any event, had Tyranny not saved me, this would not be in our possession. We may eventually have more to thank her for than we can ever know."
Faegan leaned forward over the table, his eyes flashing with curiosity. "Do you mean to say that you have actually seen one of the scrolls?"
"Yes."
"Please describe it for us."
"It was approximately one meter long, about half as wide," Tristan answered. "It seemed very tightly wound, and a golden rod ran down through its center. Golden knobs adorned each end of the rod. What I could see of the parchment was covered with Old Eutracian. A solid gold band, also engraved in Old Eutracian, secured the document around its middle. And as I said before, it appeared that blank pieces had been cut away from its exposed corners, presumably to aid Krassus' herbmistress in her search for the other scroll."
Faegan asked Shailiha to hand him the parchment. She did so. After feeling it, smelling it, and examining it in the light of the chandelier, he placed it carefully down on the table and sat back in his chair. As was so often his habit, he stared out at nothing, mindlessly stroking his cat.