Dangerous Waters (18 page)

‘Seen anything you like?’ Corrain asked Kusint lightly.

The Forest youth nodded. ‘Here and there.’

A metalworker with the tools they needed to break their chains? A boat that the three of them could crew out on the open seas? Corrain burned to ask but the silent man was watching him closely. Carrying out their plan would be thrice as hard with this bastard dogging their footsteps. It wouldn’t be long before the overseer wondered where they were.

He considered grabbing the silent man’s ankles and throwing him bodily into the water. But that would attract attention and they mustn’t risk that any sooner than they had to.

The silent man said something to the ferryman as the shallow boat grated on the gravelly shore. The ferryman replied with alacrity. Hosh chipped in with a forced smile.

Corrain’s stomach hollowed. ‘What’s wrong?’

Hosh spoke quickly in Caladhrian dialect. ‘He asked this man to wait to take us and the food back to the galley. He says we won’t be long.’

So now someone else would be watching and waiting for them. ‘Let’s get ashore.’ Corrain mentally measured the chain linking his manacles, barely restraining himself from drawing it taut. Yes, it was long enough to wrap around the silent man’s throat.

Kusint was already splashing towards the drier sand. The silent man followed close behind him.

Hosh plucked at Corrain’s elbow. ‘If the ferryman raises the alarm—’

‘Only if he sees something to alarm him.’ Corrain offered the waiting man a cheery wave. ‘So let’s lose ourselves in the crowd.’

That proved easier said than done. Traders were spread right along the broad sweep of the beach but their stalls were rarely more than two or three deep and all allowed their neighbours generous elbow room.

No one paid them any attention. There were a fair number of shaggy haired and bearded men ashore, marked as slaves by their chains and comprehensively ignored until they were needed to carry something for the Archipelagans they were trailing after.

Corrain slipped between three women examining a leather worker’s wares. A bead-seller waved her colourful strings to entice the keen-eyed matrons in her direction.

Corrain didn’t think anyone would recall them when the overseer came looking for straying slaves. Archipelagans couldn’t tell one northern barbarian from another.

Hosh exclaimed with annoyance. Corrain saw the silent man grab the lad’s shoulder. The Aldabreshin pointed at a ring of cook fires supervised by a brisk woman in tight-fitting tunic and trews. Underlings, surely her sons and daughters given their resemblance, fried sliced fruits and grilled meat and fish over glowing charcoal.

Their mother accepted a dark-wood box bright with mother of pearl inlay. She added it to a stash of wax-sealed bottles and lidded bowls before shaping a lump of cloud bread dough. She slapped it on a griddle to puff up as it cooked.

‘Let him go begging there.’ Kusint spoke up before Corrain could smack the silent man’s hand from Hosh’s shoulder. ‘We’ll go on down the beach.’

The silent man shook his head. ‘No need to go on.’

Corrain stiffened. The bastard did speak some Tormalin.

‘Corrain?’ Kusint was looking inland towards the open ground beyond the ragged-fringed trees edging the beach. Armoured men were lounging on benches beneath twisted trees spreading shadier branches. ‘They’re Khusro Rina’s guards?’

‘Doing their duty to their lord.’ Corrain wasn’t fool enough to think they were as idle as they looked.

They wouldn’t let anyone off this beach to wander the island’s interior. Not traders, not visitors from other domains, definitely not curious slaves or even some overseer searching for strays. So if the three of them could possibly slip past the swordsmen unnoticed, they could benefit from the warlord’s unwitting protection.

‘Look there.’

Corrain saw Kusint’s gaze fasten on a whitesmith’s forge. The man was doing a thriving trade mending tin pots and pewter utensils. His tools could free them from their chains.

‘You try to escape?’ the silent man sneered. ‘Now I know it, you are mine.’

Corrain had done enough soldiering to know that most plans fell victim to the unexpected. The mark of a good captain was keeping hold of the reins whatever misfortunes struck.

They’d hoped to quietly watch and wait and see if the guards’ vigilance ever wavered. If so, all was well and good. If not, they’d wait for the galley’s next landfall.

Sooner or later, Corrain swore, a sentry’s attention would wander. He’d stood enough watches himself to know and Kusint had agreed. A slim chance but better than none.

So how well would a diversion serve them? Corrain only hoped that Kusint had his wits about him and Hosh’s new-found talent for thinking on his feet held up.

Corrain shoved the silent man, both hands on his chest. As the man staggered, Corrain pursued him before he regained his balance. Another push sent the man further back. Startled Aldabreshi recoiled to leave their way open. So far, so good. Unlike his victim, Corrain could see where they were heading.

But the not-so-silent man fell over. As soon as he hit the ground, he thrust his leg between Corrain’s ankles. Slamming his other foot against Corrain’s shin, he twisted like a stamped-on snake.

Corrain fell hard, face down, sweat and dust searing his eyes. He rolled quickly onto his side and hauled up his knees. If he kept their legs entangled then the silent man couldn’t escape him. He flung out his hands trying to catch the bastard in the face with the loop of his chain.

The silent man flinched away, arching his back. That saved him from the chain but he missed his chance to seize Corrain’s hands.

Corrain got one knee beneath him and threw himself on top of the man. Both muscled from labouring at the oars, he was still the heavier. They lay motionless for a heartbeat, close as lovers.

So another man’s death was the price of their freedom, of seeing justice for Lord Halferan. Corrain could live with that bargain. He wrapped the chain around his fists.

The man smashed his forehead into Corrain’s nose, momentarily blinding him. The silent man wriggled free. Corrain snatched at his ankle but the chain on his own manacles pulled his hand up short. Their would-be betrayer opened his mouth to yell. Kusint silenced him with a double-fisted blow to the face.

Corrain seized his chance to assess their situation. This was nowhere near enough distraction. He sprang up with a roar and ran straight at the traitorous rower. The man tried to step aside but Kusint stopped him with another punch. Corrain drove his shoulder into the man’s gut, ducking under his raised fists. He ignored the stinging slap of links on his back, the vicious gouge of the rower’s manacles. This time the man would fall over when it suited them.

His bare feet skidded on the dry earth. A few more paces. There it was. Corrain threw his weight forward, lifting their betrayer bodily off the ground. The man screamed as he landed in the closest cook fire. Corrain rolled away, his own skin seared, hands and forearms worst of all. The woman in charge of the cook circle was screaming curses while someone yelled for help.

A dark swathe of cloth swept above Corrain’s head. As he staggered to his feet, he saw Kusint had flung it at their betrayer, the man writhing as his clothes burned. But the Forest lad seemingly missed his mark, sending the heavy cloth into the next hearth where a pan of oil ignited with a flare prompting further panic. Kusint ran to drag the cloth away. Now the burning fabric landed close enough to a tent to stir fresh outcry.

Corrain saw the cloth merchant advance on Kusint, his snarl promising retribution. He scooped up a double handful of sandy soil and flung it in the man’s face. The blinded merchant lashed out wildly, catching another trader a violent blow.

Confusion was spreading fast. Some sought to help the cook fire’s victim. Opportunists snatched spilled food from the dust. The food sellers smacked thieving hands and heads with spoons and ladles. Outraged retaliation saw more pots upset, one fire quenched in a cloud of savoury steam. Another hearth erupted, the pot rolling away to scatter gouts of burning oil. Now those trying to get away from the flames were hampered by those drawing closer, curious to see the uproar.

Kusint grabbed his hand. ‘The warlord’s men are coming.’

‘But Hosh—’ Corrain couldn’t see him amid the chaos.

‘Move!’ Kusint’s merciless grip on Corrain’s scorched arm was excruciating. He could barely think, his nose throbbing and his eyes raw. ‘This way.’ Kusint abruptly changed direction, pulling Corrain after him.

He could have screamed with the agony of it. ‘We have to go back for the lad!’ Between a securely pegged tent back and a spiny tree, Corrain wrenched his arm free.

‘We’ll only have this chance.’ Kusint let his arm go, only to grab the chain between his manacles. ‘To escape those swordsmen and lie low in the woods until we can find a boat.’

Corrain looked desperately around. ‘But Hosh—’

‘Go back and you will be flogged, most likely killed. Your bones will rot in these islands. Will that see your master avenged?’

In that instant, Corrain hated Kusint more than he’d ever loathed anyone. Even Minelas. But the Forest lad was right; curse him to Poldrion’s demons.

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

In the domain of Khusro Rina

31st of Aft-Spring

C
ORRAIN TOOK IN
the uproar along the trading beach. He couldn’t see how to retrace their steps to the cooking circle. Even if he went back for Hosh, he couldn’t hope to find him in this commotion.

The Khusro warlord’s guards ran past, ignoring them completely. The grassy expanse between the beach and the shady trees was left empty. Beyond, another rough sward ran to the foot of a brush-covered slope. From these shallow hills the island rose steadily to a distant peak.

‘Come or not. It’s all one to me.’ Kusint ran.

Corrain followed. How could he not? If he’d had the breath he would have begged Hosh’s forgiveness all the same.

Was that a warning yell behind them? Some cursed Aldabreshin alerting Khusro Rina’s guards to fleeing slaves? What of it? Looking back risked fatal delay. They broke through the trees, skirting the guards’ empty benches. Corrain ran faster, hating himself with every stride. How could he abandon Hosh? But how could he go back for him now?

‘Get down!’ Kusint flung himself into a gully carved by a stream. ‘Are we pursued?’ he demanded as Corrain crouched beside him. ‘What can you see over there?’ Peering over the gully’s lip, he looked to north and west.

Corrain wiped anguished tears from his stinging eyes and scanned the trees to south and west. While there was plenty of commotion spilling out off the trading beach, none was heading in their direction.

As his pounding heart slowed, the deafening rush of his blood lessened. ‘There’s no hue and cry.’ His chest ached with guilt as well as exertion. He wondered desperately what had happened to Hosh.

‘We must head away from the shore.’ Kusint shifted, ready to move. ‘Will they set hounds on our trail?’

Corrain was dumbfounded to realise he hadn’t seen the meanest mongrel among the corsairs.

‘Do they use hounds to hunt?’ demanded Kusint. ‘By sight or scent?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ Corrain admitted.

Kusint grimaced and retreated to wallow in the shallow stream. ‘We should break our trail regardless. Hurry!’

Kusint was already scouting ahead up the far slope. Corrain followed, barely pausing to douse himself with cool water.

This red-headed youth knew a suspicious amount about foiling pursuit. Well, Halferan’s guards had always agreed Forest Folk were thieves and mountebanks, as they supped their ale. Forest women could warm the coldest bed and rouse the limpest manhood and only a fool would turn an invitation down, but their men were good for nothing.

Saedrin’s stones! Where had he gone? As Corrain halted, stricken, Kusint appeared beside a stand of red canes, beckoning swiftly.

Good for nothing? Hardly. Kusint had the measure of this tangled undergrowth inside ten paces. Corrain followed quickly, intent on not losing him again. Thankfully the Forest lad soon found a deer path threading through the grey-trunked trees.