Glasswrights' Progress (39 page)

He crushed her against him, completing the embrace that Bashanorandi had interrupted on the grounds of the Swancastle. Rani was startled by the strength of his arms as he pulled her against his chest, and she gasped as he crushed his lips to hers. Her heart pounded, harder than it had when she'd stood up to Suditha, harder than when she'd danced with King Sin Hazar. Harder than when she'd betrayed Dalarati, so long ago in far-away Morenia.

She struggled to pull her head back enough that she could whisper against the corner of his mouth, against his cheek. “Crestman, I know you're not a coward. And I know you're not a fool.” She raised a single finger to trace the edge of his scar. “You know that something is not right with Liantine, that you're delivering the Little Army into danger. And you know that a king who would place children in danger is not to be served.” He started to speak, but she lowered her finger to his lips, stilling his words. “King Sin Hazar has built the Little Army to serve his purposes, but his purposes are not war. Not war against Liantine. He wants
Morenia
. He wants to conquer Hal and Morenia, and all the southern lands. The Little Army is merely a tool to accomplish that, like Davin's mines or his flying machine. Sin Hazar will let all of you perish, as readily as he would have let Monny die, as easily as he let thousands of his subjects die during the Uprising.”

She felt the fight go out of Crestman, felt it die with his passion, and a part of her longed for him to take her back in his arms. She wanted the feel of him against her chest; she wanted his fingers to tangle in her hair. But she knew that she had succeeded when she heard him ask, “What are you saying?”

“Only what you already know. The Little Army is being sent into danger, a greater danger than any battle. Sin Hazar would sell the Little Army as slaves, sell us to the Liantines.”

“How can you know this!”

“Mair saw papers in Teleos' cabin. Teleos receives four gold bars if he delivers the entire ship of children.”

Rani watched as he thought through what she said. She saw him measure the truth, fit the pieces together. He
knew
there was something wrong; he
knew
Liantine was not a safe harbor for the Little Army. His words were barely audible as he said, “What would you have me do?”

She was almost afraid to answer him. “Order the ship turned about. Return to Amanthia. Help King Halaravilli fight Sin Hazar.”

He swallowed hard, and she knew he was weighing his loyalty, weighing his devotion to his king. He'd already fought this battle, though, months before, when he had decided to flee the Little Army. He had deserted Sin Hazar before he knew the full truth about the Little Army, when he had only thought that Amanthia fielded a monstrous corps of children, children run wild. Rani watched as Crestman regained the conviction that had brought him to Shea's cottage in the first place. When he spoke, she knew he had decided to set aside the Little Army, to turn his back on Amanthia, once and for all. “This ship's captain will hardly listen to me, not with gold bars and the wrath of Sin Hazar weighing against me.”

“He'll listen to a hundred armed soldiers who tell him where to sail.”

“A hundred boys.”

Rani shook her head. “A hundred soldiers in the Little Army.”

“What about the other ship? Its captain will hardly let us escape Liantine.”

“We can turn about in the night. The other ship won't know until dawn. Even then he'll probably think that we're ahead of him, just over the horizon.”

“And what's to keep Teleos from turning about tomorrow night? He'll want to be paid, paid for all of us.”

“You can pledge enough gold to make the change worth his while.”

“My commission in the Little Army hardly provides me with that,” he managed wryly.

“Ah, but King Halaravilli can. He'll pay for our safe delivery. You can promise Teleos twice what he was earning from Sin Hazar. Twice those wages, plus a surcharge for the safe delivery of Mair and me.”

“You're confident, for a southern wench.”

“I know King Halaravilli.”

Crestman shook his head, staring out over the ocean, at the invisible Liantine shore. “The rumors at the port, before we took ship, said that the Morenians are already approaching Amanth. They say that the southerners burned the Swancastle. We can't be sure where we'll meet up with your king.”

Rani's heart soared. They would turn the ship about. They would head toward Amanthia, then home. “No,” she tried to mask her elation. “But if we return to one of the ports just south of Amanth, we can find him – either setting siege to the city or marching toward it. We'll find Hal.”

“‘Hal,'” Crestman repeated.

“King Halaravilli,” Rani supplied dutifully.

Crestman paused before asking, “And my men? How do I convince the Little Army that turning back isn't cowardice?”

“You won't be challenged by them. I've already taken care of that. Me, and Maiir, and the other girls. We've told them that we must return to save Sin Hazar, to protect him from his brother's treacherous alliance with Morenia.”

Crestman stared at her, a slow smile breaking across his face. “And I suppose you've already figured out how we'll defeat Sin Hazar, when he learns that it's actually the Little Army that has turned traitor?”

“Not yet.” Rani smiled back. “You're the captain in the Little Army. I wanted to leave you something to work on.”

 

 

Chapter 13

 

 

Rani stood in Teleos' cabin, trying to look at the ship's captain with the aplomb of a lady in King Halaravilli's court. It was hard, however, when she was clothed in the rags of the Little Army, and when she had to fight her rebellious belly, and when she was so very, very tired. Perhaps, though, her appearance mattered little; the ship's captain was in the middle of a heated debate with Crestman.

“This is a war, boy,” the captain was saying. “And you are in open mutiny against your king.”

“This is no war. It's a business transaction. You're taking my men to Liantine to sell us. My men, and the women under my protection. Only soldiers can mutiny, and the Little Army is nothing but a horde of slaves.”

“You're dreaming, boy!” Nevertheless, Teleos glanced nervously at his two bodyguards, at the bare scimitars that curved to either side of him.

The Little Army had begun its rebellion in the middle of the night, rising up against the unsuspecting and unprepared sailors on Teleos' vessel. They had managed to throw four of the king's guards overboard, taking the lions by surprise with more than a dozen boys choreographed to dispatch each guard. The Little Army had tied up the remaining four of Sin Hazar's men, taking the men's long swords to bolster their own meager weaponry. Teleos' sailors, watching the fate of the king's trained fighting men, had not put up any significant resistance. Instead, they had looked to their master for instruction, for reason in the face of a midnight battle against children.

And Teleos had summoned the leaders of the children to a parley, agreeing to meet with Crestman and Rani and Mair in his cramped cabin. He had insisted, though, that they be disarmed, and he had kept his own guards close at hand. The slaver looked worried, and a sheen of sweat had broken out across his face. His dark beard looked oiled.

Crestman took a step closer to the slaver's table, and he lowered his voice to a growl. “My dreams might become your nightmares.”

Rani wondered at the captain's bravery. Or his stupidity. He had no weapon; he had no steel to back up his threat.

“What do you mean, boy?” Teleos countered, and Rani saw the muscles in his arm tense. He was almost ready to signal his men, almost ready to order the Little Army put in its place.

“He means that we can work together, Your Grace, if we choose to,” Rani interrupted, ignoring the fact that Crestman had intended nothing of the sort. “We can work side by side, and both get what we want. Or we can fight and both lose our goals.”

Crestman glared at Rani, even as the slaver turned to her in surprise. The bearded man asked, “And who are you?”

Rani considered giving her name, letting the slaver know her true identity. But there was no advantage in letting him know that she was a merchant, that she was accustomed to bargaining for what she wanted. For what she needed. “I'm a member of the Little Army, Your Grace, just another slave for your men to unload on the Liantine docks. But for the right buyer, I can be worth far more. To Morenia, for example, I'm worth gold. An entire ingot.”

Teleos' amusement overcame the suspicion in his dark eyes, and he laughed aloud, drawing out a large kerchief to swipe at the rivulets of sweat that trickled down to his collar. “An entire ingot, for a girl? A man could have his way with you for a few copper coins.” The slaver flicked his eyes down her chest dismissively, shaking his head when he got to her narrow hips.

“King Halaravilli Ben-Jair will pay for me!” Rani shouted, and she was pleased to see the slaver blanch. “The king of all Morenia will pay to see me safely returned to him. He'll pay for me, and for my companion, Mair, and for Crestman too. And he'll pay for every one of the children you hold on this stinking tub.”

The humor in Teleos' eyes was replaced by a frown. “There's no reason to go maligning my ship, now.”

“King Halaravilli could buy this ship ten times over, before the sun rises.”

“Aye, any king can spend more than a poor, hard-working sailor. But how do I know he'll pay for
you
? A wise man hoards his gold.”

“A wise man knows the value of goods before he bids, and he spends what's fair to get them.” The banter of bargaining stirred Rani's blood. She'd been born to this life. She'd been born to argue for a fair price. She'd just never thought that she'd be forced to do it for her own freedom, for her own chance to return to Morenia and the life she'd
chosen
, as a glasswright.

“How do I know you aren't making up your entire tale?” Teleos mopped at his face again. “How do I know you're not some gutter scum who came to the Little Army because you like spreading your legs for a horde of randy boys?”

Crestman made a strangled noise in his throat, and his hand shifted to where his sword would have hung. Rani, though, merely brushed her fingers across his sleeve and shot a glance to Mair. The Touched girl understood the unspoken message and shifted closer to Crestman's other side, leaning toward the captain to whisper calming words under her breath.

Rani had to swallow once before she was certain her voice would be level, but when she spoke, she had mastered a merchant's dispassion. “Set your price, procurer.” It was Teleos' turn to choke on a reply. “Set your price for me. For me and for Crestman, for Mair and the rest of the Little Army.”

“Six hundred bars of gold.”

Rani gaped, completely unprepared for such a sum. Before she could even think to counterbid, Mair squawked, “That's ridiculous! Ye were only supposed t' get four bars fer th' entire shipful o' slaves!”

Teleos barely spared the Touched girl a glance. “My life was not at risk when I bargained over a shipful of slaves. When King Sin Hazar learns of my failure to deliver the Little Army, my life will be worth nothing. Not in Amanthia, and not in any port across the sea. He'd have me killed before spring.”

Rani struggled to counter the argument. Six hundred bars.… She had been prepared to commit Hal's treasury, prepared to bind the king to pay even an unreasonable amount of money for her release, for her and the rest of the children. But six hundred bars.… Hal would need to levy taxes on his people; he would need to call in debts from his nobles. Six hundred bars would cripple Hal's treasury, would hamstring his entire rule.

“Three bars each for the three of us,” she finally said, “with the rest of the Army tossed in. That's more than twice what you expected to gain, and you don't have to complete the ocean crossing.”

“Nine? You must think me a fool. Show these children back to their bunks.” Teleos waved a dismissive hand at his guards and turned toward a stack of parchment correspondence.

“Another nine, then, for the rest of the Little Army.”

“Eighteen bars of gold. And my life in the balance.”

Crestman stepped forward before Rani could respond. “Eighteen bars of gold, when you would otherwise have four, you bastard. Eighteen bars of gold, and my army does not turn upon your men.”

Teleos scarcely spared Crestman a glance, directing his words to Rani. “Fifty bars.”

“Twenty-five.”

“Twenty-five.” The slaver nodded. “And the Little Army stays on board until you return with my payment.”

Crestman spluttered, “You can't keep one hundred and fifty children hostage!”

“Speak to your colleague, boy. The term is ‘collateral.'”

Crestman darted a glance at Rani, but she merely nodded. The slaver was protecting his investment, like any good merchant. She made her voice as cold as golden coins. “We'll bring your money by the new moon.”

The slaver laughed for the first time. “By the new moon! By the new moon, Sin Hazar will have my hide stretched across the gates of Amanth! By the new moon, the seas will be too rough to cross to Liantine. I'd have no way to recoup my losses, to bring the Army to Liantine, if you fail. You'll have my payment by moonrise the day that we put into port, or I go back to sea, with all the Little Army.”

Crestman protested before Rani could craft a proper reply. “We have to
find
King Halaravilli! He could be anywhere between the Swancastle and Amanth!”

“Rumor puts him within a day of the city. You'd best start looking for him on the Amanth Plain.”

Rani saw the pattern spread out before her, as clearly as if it were drawn on a whitewashed table back at the glasswrights' guild. Teleos was setting them impossible odds. They needed to avoid capture by the Amanthians. They needed to find Hal. They needed to convince the king of Morenia to pay vast amounts of gold to free an army that had been trained to attack him. “We'll need a week,” she said.