Mastiff (8 page)

I picked up a bronze pendant or ornament. It hung from a thin leather strap that had been worn through at the end. Did the owner even know it was missing? It was nearly flat and round with a raised edge. At the center, also raised, was a design of four lance blade leaves, laid with the narrow tips meeting in the middle.

I turned the dangle over in my hand, wondering who had brought it to this far corner of the beach. Holding up my stone lamp, I inspected the sand around me and then the cliffs. Here I found one more trail, half blurred by the spells that still remained on it.

Achoo and I climbed that trail a little way. I stopped and raised my bright stone to examine my surroundings. Stone steps were planted in the steep hillside. They led to the Summer Palace. The walls on the trail were slabs of the same rock as the cliffs, rising high above my head. Defenders could pour anything from arrows to boiling oil on anyone who came this way, and they would have no room to hide.

Turning to climb down, I saw light on the sea at the edge of the cove. I shoved my fireless stone lamp under my tunic in case more raiders had come. As I stared, though, the lights traced fiery lines as they flowed to the center of the cove and stopped. There they continued to move, shaping figures in the air. Slowly the shapes became familiar—curved sides, flat-faced sterns, masts, sails. Two ships drawn in fire floated over the middle of the cove.

I snatched up the toy and the scarf I’d found in addition to the brass dangle, then raced with Achoo back to Master Farmer. I kept an eye on those ghost ships. More details appeared to fill in the ships’ outlines, until I could even glimpse the pilot’s wheel on one. When I halted next to the mage, he didn’t even look at me. His gaze was intent on the ghost vessels.

Tunstall reached Master Farmer just after I did and dumped the things he had found on the sand. “Trickster’s blue pearls, what’s this?” he demanded as I added the toy and the cloth to the pile of findings.

Master Farmer looked up at us. “There are reasons Gershom called on me,” he said. “I can raise the image of something that’s buried, under the ground or underwater.” He held up his lens. “Once I noticed the traces of magic on the surface out there, I used my lens to see if there was more power under the water. The raiders never left the cove. They sank.” When we stared at him, he shrugged. “Many folk carry magic with them. I found the crew’s charms and amulets and the magics that went into the ships when they were built.” He pointed at the ghost vessels. “With all that, I could draw images of what’s there. The closest ship is two hundred feet off. Oh, and the magic that blasted the bottoms out of them and kept anyone from escaping, that’s there, too. It’s a complex mix of powers, curse it all. Even if I knew the mages who did it, and that’s not likely, I wouldn’t be able to tell if they’d had a hand in this.”

“That’s mad,” I said. “Two ships, crew, and captives? Why go to all this trouble, only to destroy the profits? It must have taken a lot of power to attack the palace, then flat-out sink the ships so fast that none could escape. That’s
seriously
big magic, right? Surely the realm doesn’t have that many great mages that could do this.”

“She’s the thinker,” Tunstall said. “I’m the beauty.”

Master Farmer smiled at him, then looked at me. “There are plenty of powerful mages in the realm these days, and lots of them are angry. You know about the licenses and the taxes on mages, don’t you?”

“Only a fool Dog doesn’t attend to what’s going on,” Tunstall said irritably.

Master Farmer shrugged. “I meant no offense. The Dogs I work with concern themselves with keeping the peace, not politics. I tend to stay to myself, but even I’ve heard other mages say the realm has no business interfering in what we do. Some of the loudest protest comes from the great mages—some of the quietest whispers, too, I wager. It would only take one or two great mages to do something like this.”

“All that effort and power just to drown the prince?” Tunstall asked. “That doesn’t play out. And we see no signs of any other group but the one that attacked the palace.”

“Nor a second enemy that came just in time to sink them,” I added. “We’re missing a piece.”

Hearing the sound of folk approaching, I looked back at the steps to the palace. Mistress Orielle and Master Ironwood were coming to join us. For company they had two of the King’s Own as torchbearers and a pair of servants. One carried a flask and two cups while the other had what looked to be cloaks over one arm.

“I reached through my mirror to let them know what I’d found,” I heard Master Farmer say. “They might help. And it will be interesting if they refuse, or if any help they give goes awry and destroys what we’ve found.”

I turned to gaze at him, impressed. Tunstall also had an expression of approval on his face. There was more to Master Farmer than the plain package that he came in.

The great mages halted near the water’s edge and stared at Master Farmer’s creations. Master Ironwood sniffed. “Very pretty,” he said. “You summoned us to show pictures?”

Master Farmer looked at him with dull cow eyes. “Naw,” he drawled. “I’m showin’ you where two ships are sunk along with crew and slaves.”

“Sunk?” Mistress Orielle repeated. “These ships are on the bottom of the cove?”

“If you’d looked down here, you mighta seen ’em yourself,” Master Farmer replied. “But you’ve both been that busy, I know.”

“Doubtless those vessels have been down for years,” Master Ironwood snapped.

Mistress Orielle stretched out a hand, letting her Gift roll down into the sea. After a moment, she said, “No. They are almost whole. The trash that rises from them is fresh. They’ve been here a day, perhaps less.”

Master Farmer nodded. His light ships were coming closer to the beach. “I learned this spell from a teacher that worked in fishin’ villages all the time. When my images are close enough, we’ll see anything about them that’s touched with magic.” He’d dropped his yokel’s accent some. He’d been mocking the royal mages, I realized. I shook my head. What manner of looby tried to pull a bear’s tail? In truth, I’d sooner meddle with that bear than a mage, for mages are far more touchy. Then I saw Master Farmer scratch his head. He wasn’t done tweaking these two high-and-mighty folk. He said, “A course, we’d see even the non-magicked stuff if we could raise the ships from the bottom, but I can’t do that.”

“Of course
you
cannot,” Master Ironwood said. If he had noticed Master Farmer’s nonsense, it did not show. Even Mistress Orielle did not seem to suspect. “What manner of Provost’s mage studies with fishing mages?” he asked.

“One that studies with any mage that will take him,” Master Farmer replied. “I wasn’t good enough for the City of the Gods or Carthak, nor had I the coin for it. And Master Seabreeze was good for other things. He could call winds, seek out schools of fish, make dyes from sea urchins—”

“Quiet!” Ironwood said. “I am sorry I asked. Mistress Orielle and I can do work that is far more useful than your gleanings from the ocean bottom.”

“I have a grip on one,” Mistress Orielle told him coolly. “Will you take the other?” She smiled at Master Farmer. “You may help, if we have need. We have stores of power at hand, should we require any, but you might also learn a new trick or two.”

Master Farmer nodded, grinning. His bright ships began to fade. “That’s an honor for me,” he said eagerly.

“Excuse me for asking, but are you not supposed to guard Their Majesties?” Tunstall wanted to know. “Meaning no offense.”

“We placed them in their chambers under layers of protection spells so they might sleep,” Master Ironwood replied, his eyes already fixed on the cove. “They are exhausted and will not wake for hours.” Yellow fire flowed from him like a river to mingle with the waves.

I frowned. It did not seem proper for Ironwood and Orielle to lock their charges in their rooms, but that was not supposed to be my concern. Finding the prince was. Mayhap these sunken ships would give us more clues, but we could do nothing about that until the ships were above the water. In the meantime, I needed sommat to keep me busy.

Tunstall beckoned me over to the pile of things he had found on the southern half of the beach. Seemingly that area was more popular with the palace folk than the northern half. We inspected all of it. Nothing seemed important: a wooden comb, a straw basket, a leather ball, a pale blue blanket, and a small fan made of feathers, together with my toy dog and scarf. The brass dangle was too small to be left there, where it might be lost. I kept that safe in my pocket. Tunstall and I looked at our collection with my spelled mirror, but these things showed no magic whatsoever.

“We’re wasting time here, standing about with our thumbs up our asses,” Tunstall said at last. “I’ve a mind to take Achoo up to the woods and cast about to see if any other strangers have been near. We don’t have to wait for day, now we’ve got these lamps. Someone sank those ships. I doubt he went down with them. Like as not he sailed off on his own, but just in case he didn’t …”

I showed him the bronze piece. “I found it up there,” I said, and pointed. “Right next to another path to the heights.”

Tunstall looked it over. “I don’t know the insignia. Might’ve been there for who knows how long, though it’s not scratched up.” He flipped it in the air, caught it, and handed it back to me. “Could be something, could be naught. Let’s have a stroll, Cooper.”

I looked at the mages. Mistress Orielle stood straight, her small shoulders square. Ironwood swayed a little. Masts were poking out of the rolling water, masts and a figurehead in the shape of a vulture. The first ship, drawn by Mistress Orielle, was coming in. Master Farmer was still seated, but his hands were busy. I looked closer. To my startlement, he was stitching on a length of broad ribbon. He was embroidering, and doing so without looking at the ribbon! He got stranger every moment I was in his company.

There was no point to interrupting, so Tunstall and I set off down the beach without farewells. Achoo found a stick and brought it to Tunstall, who threw it for her.

Good Hunting
, Pounce called as we passed him on his rock.

At the end of the beach I let Achoo sniff the brass medallion and its leather strap, but they gave her nothing. She circled and circled, sniffing, going to the path, then down the beach. Finally I felt sorry for her and said, “
Berhenti
, Achoo.” Mayhap the owner’s scent had worn off by now, and this dangle had naught to do with the raiders. I gave Achoo a bit of dried meat, because she had tried so hard.

“Up we go, then,” Tunstall said cheerfully, squinting at the half-magicked path. He found his way onto it by feeling ahead with his feet, hands, and baton. Once we were on it, we could see perfectly well using our stone lamps. It was getting past the first spells that was tricky.

As we climbed, Tunstall said, “I tell you, Cooper, this Hunt is shaping to be a true pile of scummer and snakes. Us lowly folk better mind how we go, else we’ll be crushed. We’ve no business dealing with nobles and great mages.” He made the Sign against evil and spat to the side of the trail. “Even lesser mages. Did you see what that Farmer was doing? He was
sewing
!”

“Embroidering, actually,” I replied. “Mayhap he does trims with magical signs and sells them for pocket money. It’s not like he gets a share of the weekly Happy Bag, if he’s a kennel mage. They only get coin from the Bag where they’ve helped to hobble the Rats. And the pay is no royal sum.”

“Embroidery,” Tunstall said, and spat again. “Sewing and doing your mending, that’s manly enough. But fancy work? And playing with string while those other mages were pulling up whole ships, if they weren’t belching braggarts.”

Tunstall’s view of what men could and couldn’t do was sometimes odd. Our old partner Goodwin and I agreed that there was no manly or unwomanly, only what you chose to do. But I didn’t argue with Tunstall about it as we often did, when we were unsettled and wanted to think of sommat else. We had reached the top of the bluff.

We stepped onto the road that wound around the Summer Palace, where we’d been that afternoon, on the turn just before we saw the garden full of the dead. Without another word Tunstall and I raised our shining rocks so they cast their light around us for about four feet. We spread just six feet apart. Achoo, knowing her role, went about four feet to my left, a little ahead. Then we began walking forward at a sharp angle through that very clean woodland at a slow pace, inspecting the ground before us. Tunstall would signal, and we’d move ahead in the reverse direction, walking a letter Z among the trees.

“I see it!” Tunstall said when we’d gone about a quarter of a mile. “They groom even the woods like the garden. They get rid of all the brush and little trees and vines so everyone can trot their horses through without getting tangled.”

Looking at the neat forest around me, I sighed. Tunstall was right. It meant that there were precious few places for animals to hide. There were no vines to trip me up, and the trees were neatly trimmed well above my head. It also made the woodland seem false, somehow. It was not the way the Goddess made the forests.

“Cheer up, Cooper,” Tunstall said. He could read me like a proclamation. “I’ll wager the forest where they hunt is messier by far. This is for the ladies. See here.” He pointed to his right. I came closer to look and winced. A perfect mossy bank led to a stream. Willows grew there, and flowers. It was so tidy it could have been painted.

Then Achoo charged down to the water and slurped loudly as she drank from the stream, a commoner hound with leaves in her curls and sand in her paws. Tunstall and I chuckled and returned to our inspection of the ground.

We kept close to the cliffs, straying no more than a hundred yards east of them, moving back and forth in our narrow Z, always headed north. It wasn’t the best of search patterns, but it was the best that two Dogs and a lone hound could manage. At least we remained in hearing of the little stream, so we could all drink as we got dry. Palace streams, we agreed, should be safe to drink from.

I will say this of Master Farmer’s glowing rocks. They did not go out. By their light we covered about three miles of ground, dismaying all manner of bats, owls, and small burrowing creatures that had escaped the humans that had groomed all the interest from the woods. I was about to say we should turn back when Achoo raced to the cliff’s edge and began to circle, huffing to herself.