By Blood Betrayed (The Kingsblood Chronicles) (40 page)

Chapter Twenty Four

“Elven ‘steel,’ so named only because of its strength and resilience, actually contains no iron. In
Aesidhe
, it is called
penalirin
, which means ‘True Bronze,’ analogous to Truesilver. Although it does look like bronze, it is much harder to work. In ages past, the formulation of elven steel was a closely guarded secret, but in modern days the knowledge is widespread. Rare is the master metalsmith who has failed to conquer its secrets.”

-- From “Metallurgical Facts and History,” by the Sage Alionur

A small group of village children had gathered to watch the artillery practice, but they left disappointed after it became apparent that nothing particularly exciting was going to happen. Lian dedicated the fourteen remaining rounds he’d been allotted to lay the foundation of knowledge his two apprentices would need to perform their duties. He knew that he could depend on Snog to hold his ground, but the boy Kess was excitable and inexperienced.

He assigned Snog to the afterdeck weapon, and decided that he and Kess would man the two forward mounts. That way, Kess would have a leader present who would set an example. It was more difficult to break and run if someone whose approval you sought was nearby, watching your actions.

The last practice shot was fired just as the fishing fleet began to arrive, running low to the water. The watchman manning the dock’s single remaining tower rang his bell in a slow, unhurried cadence that informed the villagers that it wasn’t an emergency. The early return of the fishing boats meant that they had run into a mighty school of fish.

Every able-bodied villager that had remained onshore hurried to the beach to help with the catch, for the fish would soon decompose, though they’d been out of the water for only a short time. The villagers brought barrels of salt and boxes of sharp knives with them, and Lian could see the mayor helping three other men roll empty wooden barrels down to the sand, where they were taken by others.

“Humanss,” hissed a voice from the water below the ballista. Snog drew his crossbow and silently began to crank the string back.

Lian cautiously poked his head over the edge of the railing, gazing down at the water twenty feet below him. A lizard man, with green mottled skin that was hard to see in the kelp-filled bay, even at point blank range, was treading water easily. In one hand, it held one of the balllista bolts. “Yes?” Lian asked, taking the opportunity to study the reptile. He’d never seen one of the lizard folk firsthand, and the creature’s beauty impressed him.

“Thessse arre imporrrtant?” hissed the reptile. “You pay forr them?”

Lian nodded. “Yes. How much?” It was a mildly lucky break, and might put him in good stead with the captain.

The lizard’s eyes glinted in the midday light. “Big catch coming. Need lotss of sshiny coinss.”

Lian considered. “A copper for two bolts. A brass for a broken bolt.”

“Yess,” it said in a pleased tone. Lian figured that the bolts probably cost quite a bit more than that, and even if he had to pay the lizard from his own reserves, he considered it to be a bargain. He didn’t bemoan the fact that the lizard would likely have taken less for the ammunition, for he would have gladly paid even more.

The water churned under the lizard as it kicked with powerful legs and tail, bracing itself for the throw that sent the bolt clattering against the railing. Lian caught it and brought it aboard.

The action at the stern captured Cedrick’s attention, and the captain had climbed back up to the afterdeck in time to see the catch. “What the hell?” he asked, amazement on his face.

“The local lizards, or one of them anyhow, has agreed to retrieve the bolts in exchange for a few coppers, sir. I felt it was a reasonable expense,” Lian explained, hoping the captain wouldn’t be offended. Many unit commanders demanded that all logistical decisions be made by themselves or an appointed man, and didn’t appreciate a break in the chain of command.

“Aye, that it is,” replied the captain. “You did right, agreeing to it. What’s the cost to be?”

Lian explained the deal, and Cedrick shouted for the quartermaster, whose head appeared in the entryway to the hold. “Bring Alan here some copper and brass so he can pay the lizards. They’re returning ammunition for us.”

The quartermaster acknowledged and ducked back into the hold. “Yardin down there will make sure you get the coins. We’ve got about forty bolts for each weapon belowdecks, but we’ll need forty-three the way our luck’s been running.” Cedrick was obviously pleased that his new engineer had some initiative.

“Your luck, Captain?” asked Lian, who was interested in learning more about his new companions.

Cedrick nodded. “You a superstitious man, engineer?” he asked. When Lian shrugged noncommittally, he continued, “Well, since about the middle of last year,
Searcher’s
been running into one problem after another. First, it was grubs in the flour. A minor thing, and easily put right when we made port. We ate more fish and less bread, and it was fine.

“Then, we lost half a dozen men to flux, which isn’t unusual, except we had a good healer on board who should have been able to cure it. Shortly before that, though, the healer himself was killed in a tavern brawl turned nasty on Pirate’s Landing, a town I never want to visit again, I’ll tell you.

“A couple of weeks ago, we ran into some kind of monster made of seaweed, and before Reidar was able to drive it away with his spells, it sheared the foremast off and cleared the deck of most of my crew. Arden’s company had time to lash themselves down when they made it up on deck, and he didn’t lose as many men,” Cedrick said, shaking his head.

“No one of these things is too terrible, Alan of Staikal, save the last,” he said. “But together, they form one long chain of ill fortune. We’ve asked witches in several ports to look us over, and remove any curses, but none of them found anything which would account for it. You believe in a run of bad luck?”

Lian nodded. “Yes, sir. I also believe in good fortune, and it’s because Ashira’s been smiling on Snog and me that we’re here aboard the
Searcher
. I hope our run continues, and perhaps reverses your fortunes.”

Cedrick nodded agreement. “I hope so, too, young man. We could use a little good luck. We’re about to raise the mast, and I’d like your help with it.”

“Aye, sir, but I have no experience in shipbuilding.”

“Then it’s a good time to learn. I expect all of my officers, including the engineer, to be able to assist with repairs. I also expect you to study every aspect of ship operation that you can master. There may come a time when the crew needs leadership and you’re all that’s able.”

“I’ll do my best, Captain,” Lian said, thinking to Gem,
Arden neglected to mention this was an officer’s post, but it makes sense. Good fortune on our part.

“One more thing, Alan,” Cedrick continued. “Since you have a talent at mathematics, I want you to spend two hours a day with either myself or Mr. Ylen, learning the basics of navigation. It’s a complicated business, and the order itself would be grounds to be expelled from the Pilot’s Guild, but Ylen is leaving us when we reach Seagate, and I want someone else aboard that can handle the charts.”

Lian raised both eyebrows in surprise. The Pilot’s Guild was, in general, highly protective of the knowledge that allowed them to navigate the ships which plied the oceans of Tieran. Cedrick’s offer to train him probably meant that he had already been stripped of his membership status. “Won’t the Guild bring sanctions against you for using a non-Guilded navigator?” he asked.

“No, lad.
Searcher
isn’t a member of any of the merchant houses, nor do we compete directly with any of the other guilds, except for the Mercenaries Guild. Arden isn’t a member of that organization, by the way.

“We’re more along the lines of a privateer, and I’ll guarantee you that there isn’t a pirate ship on the Eastern Sea that uses Guilded navigators or anything else, for that matter. Arden’s group is more an adventuring company than a mercenary band, just because of sheer numbers. He usually accepts commando work when we get entangled in a war, and he’s kept us out of the nastier conflicts, so far.”

“Again, sir, I’ll do my best,” Lian said. “Please accept my thanks for the opportunity.”

Cedrick grunted. “Well, if you excel at your job, Arden will most likely appropriate you for his company, but I’ve grown used to that. Just remember that at sea,
I
am master of the
Searcher
, and Arden merely decides where we go.” If the captain harbored resentment toward the owner of the ship because of the way he handled matters, he hid it from Lian.

The rest of the day was spent raising the splintered stump that remained of the old mast out of the socket which held it and maneuvering the new mast into place. Lian’s responsibility was to keep a set of lines from becoming fouled, which was no simple task due to the number of ropes and booms which adorned the mast. Every hand aboard
Searcher
, including Arden and his men, lent their arms and backs to the effort. And every hand followed Captain Cedrick’s orders without question or complaint, including Arden himself.

It’s easier to raise a barn
, Lian thought, an activity he’d participated in many times before. He imagined that it would be easier to accomplish the feat they were attempting with the booms and cranes which could be found at a true shipyard.

Once the huge mast was raised and set into its socket, Reidar produced a large kettle of foul-smelling glue and poured it in carefully where the mast and the deck joined. This done, the sorcerer sang a song over the mast. The song roamed throughout the sorcerer’s vocal range, and each note had a bell-like quality. The pealing notes resonated across the ship, striking sympathetic chords from every piece of metal on deck. At the song’s completion, he touched the deck where the glue had been set, and the sealant seemed to disappear. In addition, Lian could no longer see any seam where the deck ended and the mast began. It was a potent joining magic, and he had no doubt that it was permanent.

Reidar examined his work with approval, then went below to apply his spell to the lower deck and the mast foot where the base of the mast sat. The sorcerer gestured for Lian to accompany him. When they reached the lower deck, Lian was surprised at the number of rats that were wandering around the hold.

Reidar asked Lian to hold the kettle for him. It remained scalding hot, so Lian wore heavy gauntlets. Lian asked, “Are there always this many rats aboard?”

Reidar looked around at the rodents. There were nearly a dozen nearby, in the part of the hold where they were working by lantern-light. He shrugged. “I guess they’re just bold, or maybe they recognize the scent on you from the boggle. Rats like goblins, you know,” he said.

“I know,” Lian said, shaking his head. “But Snog was never a rat-rider, and he’s been away from the warrens long enough that the smell of rats should be gone by now.”

Reidar shrugged unconcernedly, then picked up the lantern and stood to sing his joining song. “Always rats on a ship, Alan. You keep ‘em out of the grain when you can, and pray they don’t get into the rum,” he said with a grin. “Since Talus was killed, we’ve had to be extra careful about disease and such, but I’ve got some skill with herbical cures.”

“Talus?” The name was Southron, but for all Lian knew it could be a common name among the Island Kingdoms as well.

“Talus was from Firegate,” Reidar explained, naming the capital of the northernmost province of the Southron Empire. “He was our healer. He and some of the lads from our company were pulling our sailors out of a tavern brawl in Pirate’s Landing. He stopped to work on one pirate who’d been laced open with a broken bottle, and some other bastard stabbed him in the back while he was down on the ground. I think the pirate thought Talus was going through his pockets or something, but I never got the whole story.

“By the time Arden and I got there, half the tavern was on fire and there were so many dead it was hard to walk through the rest of the place. Talus was well-loved aboard the
Searcher
, by Cedrick’s men as well as our group. The Black Lords, who rule Pirate’s Landing, informed us that
Searcher
was proscribed from landing there ever again, and that ships of their allegiance had been given license to fire upon us because we’d violated the edict against open conflict.” Reidar had an amused look on his face from the memory.

“So you have to look out for Pirate Landing ships?” Lian said.

Reidar laughed. “Yes, you could say that. Arden took such exception that he fired on the Black Lords’ keep, and by the time we made the horizon, there was smoke trailing to the opposite horizon. Some of the Landing vessels headed out after us, but they simply couldn’t keep up with
Searcher
.”

“Fired on the keep?” Lian asked. “With the ballistae?” He didn’t see how the weapons could have damaged a fortified keep, however poorly maintained.

“
Searcher
has secrets I am not at liberty to reveal, Alan,” Reidar said, motioning Lian to remain quiet. He sang his joining song, and once again Lian could see no trace that the deck and the mast were ever separate. Nodding in satisfaction, he headed toward the hatch leading to the bilge space.

“It’s a little ripe down there, lad, and the air’s fouled as often as not. If you start to black out, get back up here as fast as you can, understand?” the sorcerer asked.  “Don’t fight for breath: just get out.”

Lian nodded. The two men wrestled the hatch open, revealing a constantly shifting floor under the flickering light of the lantern. Lian, whose eyes didn’t rely on the uncertain light of the flame, discerned the reason clearly. The bilge was filled with rats, thousands of them. Quickly deciding that it was acceptable for the crew of
Searcher
to know he could see in the dark, he said, “Gods, look at the rats! There must be thousands of them!”