The sleigh ride to the river had been exhilarating at first. Now it was just cold. They huddled deeper into the blankets and furs, but the knife edge of the wet-snow wind cut in somewhere, somehow. Beside Keilin, Beywulf muttered, "To think I used to like that song about dashing through the snow."
"At least you have some hair to keep it off. Think of Cap and S'kith," said Shael, only the tip of her nose protruding from her new fur parka.
"Hmph! And by the looks of you, you envy my beard and moustache. Not to worry, yours is coming on nicely, broad beam. A little more chicken manure on the inside . . ." There was a muffled thump.
"Ow, damn you! I've broken my nail," said Shael crossly, "Well, half ape, at least nothing else can be as cold or as miserable as this."
She was wrong. A river barge could be. It edged its way downriver through the chilly mountain valleys, with greenish ice slurry forming in the wake, and thin sheets of floe ice gunshot-cracking and scream-splintering in front of the heavy prow. Of course these sounds were loudest at night, making sleep uneasy, as the Nawleans wallowed her ponderous bulk downstream, racing the river freeze. Belowdecks, where hold space had been converted to make up two tiers of bunks for them, it was narrow, dark and windowless. The damp air did warm up faintly when they were all down there, but the heavy blankets still felt clammy.
Keilin found he simply couldn't take being shut in. The only real cover on deck was the steersman's hut from which they were expressly banned by its unpleasant occupant. Otherwise one could huddle against the cargo hatch edge or the gunwales, but neither were even headhigh on a sitting man. Rain, which would have been snow a hundred feet higher up, fell in a thin drizzle which was whipped across the deck by the icy winds from the surrounding mountains. Occasionally, for variety, there was sleet. Despite this Keilin stayed up on the flat deck, with his back to the cargo hatch. So did S'kith, although the bare-headed man plainly felt the cold even more badly than the skinny desert rat.
Keilin was worried about the man. S'kith usually asked him a steady stream of questions. These had dried up. Expression had recently begun to appear on the man's face, and rare smiles. Now there were no more of the odd looks of wonderment. Instead a sort of desperate unhappiness began to underpin the near-blank face. S'kith would simply sit in silence on the deck and stare morosely out into the darkness.
Finally Keilin had had enough of S'kith's brooding gloom. They were alone on the deck, shrouds of rain obscuring the dark, tree-covered banks. Below them the near-black water rushed and gurgled. Without quite knowing why he did it, Keilin took the ring with its core section out of his ankle pouch. He held it out to S'kith. S'kith took it, held it awhile against his face, and then returned it, all in silence. But it seemed to have eased the misery somewhat.
"What's wrong?" Keilin asked.
"I am . . . afraid. Afraid of going back to the hive. I am afraid of the dark, afraid of the smallness. Afraid of the horrible, endless . . . sameness most of all. You are free-born, friend. You don't—you can't—understand what it means just to have new things happen. You see," he sighed, "in the hive there is this . . . pattern. The pattern never changes, until you die. And it makes you—" he searched for words—"numb. Numb to everything. And you don't even know that you can't feel . . . You just exist . . . you don't think at all, you just do. And the worst of all is that you're scared by anything different. The sameness, the numbness is horrible, but you know it. And it is so, so secure you don't want to change it." He sighed again. "Changes . . . variety. Those were the hardest things to learn how to deal with when I escaped. But . . . I now have come to love the changes. I don't exist. I am alive. I feel. And now Cap is taking me back. I . . . the piece that is me, the alive person, not just some endlessly repeat-bred thing, will die there." It was the longest speech Keilin had ever heard S'kith make. It was also said with more expression and emotion than he'd known the man could muster. He wasn't finished yet either. He pointed at the hatch cover and shuddered. "Down there . . . that is very like the hive. And this . . . disappearing into the grayness out here is very like what will happen to me when I go back."
"So why don't you run away?" said Keilin simply. "Avoiding Cap wouldn't be that hard, for all he pretends to be God . . . it's a big world. You've learned enough to live in it now. You're a fantastically quick learner. You knew next to nothing a few months ago, but you've learned. You've come from being like a child of three to a teenager in very little time. I'll steal enough supplies for you to hide out for the time it takes to grow your hair and a beard. You've the money I gave you. Don't go back to the hive. You don't have to."
"I have the money that you gave me, and some more the little one you call Princess also gave to me. It is odd. I did not know she liked me. Must I have sex with her now?" The man sighed. "I spent some money in that last town. It was strange. The man in the shop thought I could not count and that he would cheat me. But I remembered what you told me. He will almost certainly live. However, that is aside from the point: I cannot run away even if I wanted to. I cannot go more than two hundred fifty yards from Cap for more than twenty minutes. Even when I followed you into Amphir I knew that we were close to him, outside the wall."
"Why not? I mean don't believe everything Cap says. He's got being the great leader on the brain," said Keilin, first making damn sure his disrespect wasn't being overheard.
"He has placed a small explosive device in my abdomen. I still have the scar. He demonstrated to me how it works. After twenty minutes of being further than half a mile away from him I would be as dead as the hive wants me to be. He explained it to me very carefully . . . to make utterly certain I would not run away," said S'kith quietly.
Keilin sat in shocked silence. Finally he said. "I'll check with Bey. There must be a way . . ." But he had a sinking feeling. He remembered Beywulf saying to S'kith when the man joined them on the roofs of Amphir, "Aren't you too far . . . ?" and S'kith's strange reply. He'd meant to ask about it, but had forgotten about it after all that had happened. Another thought occurred to him. "And for God's sake don't mention the idea of sex to Shael!"
"It will offend her? I do not understand. But as to speaking to the foodmaker, it doesn't matter too much. I would not go anyway." S'kith was quiet for a long time. "I could not leave you, friend—nor Leyla. You see, until I left the hive I was a man alone. Throughout my childhood, throughout my life I was alone. The warrior brood sows loved me . . . but they did not trust me. You do not trust in the hive. To trust is to die. But you have trusted me . . ."
For two hundred years the Alpha-Morkth had tried to breed hive loyalty into their slaves. They would have been dismayed to see that where they had failed, human nature had succeeded, against all odds.
Keilin felt guilty. All he'd ever done was to feel sorry for the odd man. Suddenly S'kith turned away from the gray view to look at Keilin. There was life in his strange eyes. "I know what I will do. I will teach you the bioenhancement routines. You have taught me so much. It was forbidden for one human to teach another in the hive. I shall teach you, and take joy in defying the Morkth."
Three days later, the barge sailed out onto the wide, ice-free Elbe River. On the east bank lay Morkth-occupied lands. To the west the new Empire of Tynia. It was the first sunlight they'd seen for days and the whole party were up on deck, soaking up the weak watery stuff. A skiff full of armed men came sailing out from one of the fishing villages on the western bank. Leyla readied her bow.
"Leave that alone, you daft woman. Them's guvment people," bellowed the steersman. S'kith touched Keilin's hand. "Back," he said quietly. "Start your routine. We must go over the side." Using the party as cover they slipped like rats over the far gunwale. Keilin had just time to catch Shael's eye and nod towards the steersman.
There was a trailing rope hanging from the anchor port, down into the water. It sluiced by green and cold as the barge moved downcurrent. They hung onto the rope like fruit, listening to the boarding party. "We've had a tip-off from a jewel merchant in Riverport that three jewel thieves are coming downriver on a barge. We're searching each vessel for three men. One hairy, short and broad one, like that man," the official pointed at Bey. "One bald one . . . could be you, sir, except that the description is of someone far shorter, and a boy with an aquiline nose and green eyes. About five foot eight."
Cap looked down his prow of a nose at the man. "I am offended by your assertions. We are the only people on board."
"Meaning no disrespect, but I'll have to look below, sir." The man was slightly cowed by Cap, but still plainly determined. Keilin thanked heaven that the bedding had all been dragged up and spread in the sunshine.
A few minutes later he heard them come up again. "Well, no one down there. My apologies."
Another voice. "We'd better just check they're not hidin' in a small boat over the side. Remember, like the Dumara ones."
S'kith had evolved a bizarre teaching method. He and Keilin would touch the core section. Then S'kith would do the exercise. It was an awesome way to learn. Keilin literally felt each step from his mentor's viewpoint. It had taken only hours to impart the skills taught to S'kith over years.
Keilin took that deep breath and slid down into the water. His nerves were pain-blocked, his eyes saw the world through the faint red shift of human fear-strength, his muscles ready to continue even until their own destruction. He was still unprepared for the cold assault.
He counted. He could feel the numbness creeping inwards. His hands could still feel the rope. By the bumping on his back the water flow had pulled them at least partially under the hull. He opened his eyes. He could see greenish light back there. Keilin felt at a count of 130 that he could hold out no more. His lungs were on fire. His hands were losing feeling. He couldn't swim, and if he didn't go up now, he'd drown. He began pulling for the surface. Behind him he felt S'kith do the same.
The joy to breathe again! S'kith surfaced next to him. And a low voice came over the side. "Stay in the water. They haven't gone yet." So they had to do it again. Finally someone gave the rope a couple of sharp tugs. Keilin's lungs and mind screamed conflicting messages: Go up, and, They've found the rope, let go.
Decision was abruptly taken out of his hands as the whole rope lifted. Beywulf's hairy face, red with effort, grinned down at them. "Come up, you water rats."
"Oh. Cap says to wait another couple of minutes. Want some soap?" With a splash he let go of the rope, and they had to pull to the surface once more.
By the time they got the all-clear, Beywulf had to pull them up, because neither could climb.
Bey chuckled at the blue, dripping, exhausted figures. "Didn't you find the hot tap? You pair of bastards, leaving me alone to face the music. You should have seen that bit of fluff of yours," he pointed an elbow at Shael, "cleaning her nails with her knife next to that prick of a steersman." He snorted. "If I'd been him I'd have been more scared of what was under the nails. Now, come below and get some dry gear and a warm brew into you."
Keilin discovered that the problem with bone-deep cold was that it took so long to warm up. The water had been perhaps five degrees and they been in it for nearly ten minutes. The core temperature of his body was down by several degrees . . . and it just wasn't coming up. He still shivered under the blankets an hour later. He also discovered the cost of bioenhancement. His body was almost too exhausted to struggle to get warm.
"Move up." Shael spoke roughly. Next thing he knew she had slipped under the blankets and squeezed into the bunk with him. Her arms went around him. "God. You're still like an ice block." He felt the life-giving warmth of her body seeping into him. She giggled suddenly. "When Bey mocks me about this—and he will, I know—I can honestly say you were frigid." Keilin barely managed a weak smile. Soon the warm drowsiness took him into sleep. She lay there for a long time cradling him in her arms while his now-peaceful face smiled up at her. She nearly bit a hole through her lip, as the realization took her. She didn't care if he protected her, was kind to her, or could be used by her. She was just glad he was still alive.
The curving Elbe took them westwards, towards debated lands. Here the wide river flowed from the lands controlled by Emperor Deshin into those still held by the Tyrant. The bargeman would go no further. The river was blockaded, and his fat tub of a vessel was not built to run, but tied up at the river quays were numerous sleek shallow-draft boats. Their only problem was to prevent the steersman howling for the authorities the minute they docked. This time it was Shael who kept Cap from cutting his throat. She simply handed Cap a bottle she'd looted from the apothecary's shop.
He smiled down at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And why would I be wanting this, my fine young lady?"
"Isn't that what you meant when you said the bargeman would have to be put to sleep?" she asked innocent and wide-eyed.
"Hmph!" He snorted at her. "You're not the little angel you pretend to be, are you, little one? Still, it's not a bad interpretation. We might want to come back this way one day."
So the unpleasant steersman snored peacefully in his smelly bed while they clumsily maneuvered his craft into the quay. Of the seven runner craft tied up at the quayside, only one was prepared to take them through enemy lines that night. Keilin misliked the feel of her crew. So, by his unease, did S'kith. Keilin had learned that the Morkth-man's psi ability manifested as premonitions of danger. S'kith admitted that he had failed to recognize them for what they were at first. It had got him caught and nearly hung. Now he acted on the hunches. Still, Cap was sure that the pursuit from Amphir was close. He insisted they move that night. Shael suspected he wasn't too concerned for Keilin's welfare, but he surely didn't intend to return the core section either.
They boarded the river runner, taking their seats between the deep banks of oars. Keilin made carefully sure that his assegai was handy. By the looks of it S'kith, too, was prepared to fight. The moon was sinking low and with muffled oars they set out into midchannel. Soon the moon was down and the river mist which forms in the early morning was closing in around them.
The skipper of the blockade runner knew his stuff. As smoothly as oiled silk they slid through the water, running down along a great sandbank midwater. They moved ghost silent past the watch boats, and then, with the muffled oars being slipped silently back into the water they sped away. The rowers hissed with relief when they were safe in no-man's-land.
Now they crept forward cautiously. It had been easy to spot the watchers on the two-mile-wide river upstream. Innocent-seeming fishing boats had pegged those during the day. But the blockade positions on the downstream side were unknown. They edged on silently, till at last the bow lookout spotted the tiny glow in the mist. It was some deck watch taking a chance and smoking a pipe, but it effectively revealed the bireme they'd been bearing straight for.
Soon they were all breathing easier and skimming towards the runner's usual quay. The mist was still thick and the darkness heavy, but the river rats knew their way well. The haloed lights of the quay should have looked welcoming in the mist. Why then did they seem so threatening?
They nosed in cautiously. The quay seemed deserted. Well, it was nearly five in the morning. The boat slid up to the dock. The skipper gave them an oily smile, which made Keilin even more wary. "Well here we are, good gentlemen and ladies. Now, the rest of my money please."
Sourly Cap handed over the gold. "If we don't get to Dublin Moss soon I'll be going broke. At least we're well and truly out of the reach of the gentlemen looking for you three."
They stepped out of the shallow draft vessel and scrambled up the ladder onto the raised dock. As soon as they were all off the boat, she pushed off. "I don't like that," said Bey. "They haven't time to paddle back up tonight."
"I don't think they wanted to be involved," said the solitary man who had been leaning against the rickety building on the dock. "We've paid them their money for delivering you, after all."
Beywulf's sword slowly came out of its sheath. "You paid for us to be delivered to you, did you? Has it occurred to you, my little cock o' whoop, that they have delivered you to me? And if anything goes wrong, you're going to die." He swung the huge sword experimentally. "I think I'll just rip your stomach open and leave you to get on with it slowly. I watched a man die like that once. He wouldn't stop screaming and trying to shove his own guts back into himself." The jagged edges of the sword gleamed in the light of the few lanterns. All of this was said with Bey's habitual humor. It didn't make it any less terrifying, especially as the hairy man took a casual swipe at a ten-inch-wide wooden bollard, and lopped its top off. The fact that the entire party was advancing on him couldn't have helped either.
Still, he spoke in a very credible attempt at a steady voice. "I am an official of the Amphir Jewel Recovery Unit. It is Amphir's policy to condemn to death, by slow immersion in hot oil, those who kill our officers pursuant on their duty. It's an awful way to die."
"He's scared, Bey," Shael said, her voice hard.
"Brave boy though," said Bey clinically. "I presume you Amphir lads have a reception committee. What do you say, Cap? Shall we go and explain that in a war zone a lot of people end up mysteriously dead. Nobody knows who killed them. Or shall we just kill him and go on and kill the rest, too?"
The Amphir Jewel Recovery Unit man could not see Cap shake his head. "Just kill him and let's get on with it," he said, bored. "These Amphir fools are too cocksure. I doubt if there are more than ten of them. And the river is deep. They won't find the bodies until the fish have eaten the faces."
"No . . . no . . . don't! You . . . you're making a big mistake. There are thirty officers. You couldn't possibly kill half of us. We . . . we just weren't expecting you this evening anymore," said the man, now no longer trying to hide his fear.
"Only thirty. We're late. I'll bet they're asleep. We hardly even need to use the girls. The boy over there walks like a ghost. Won't be the first sleeping man, or room full of men, he's slit the throat of, hey boy?" said Cap, quietly oily and evil.
Keilin did his best to look villainous and grinned, producing a long knife from his sleeve. "Go now, O master?" he asked eagerly.
"No. I think this gentleman has decided to show us the way past his friends. Then in a few miles we'll let him go . . . if he's been good," said Cap, showing his teeth to the jelly that had once been the pride of Amphir's force.
They'd been so intent on terrorizing the officer that they hadn't noticed his sleepy relief coming along the pier. This man's eyes suddenly focused on the drawn swords. He screamed and ran.
"Hell's teeth. That's torn it!" swore Cap, "No, Leyla! Don't shoot. After him. We may still get past before they're up and organized." But they were too late. Already bleary-eyed crossbow-armed men were spilling onto the pier.
The river quay was a long dock running parallel to the river with three piers leading in over the muddy shallows, rather like an "E" with the long edge in the deep water. The river height obviously varied considerably, and the main dock had to be built out where it could be used at all seasons. They were on the center spline of the E leading to the shore. Keilin could hear the clatter of men running across the wooden slats in the mist.
"Well, gentlemen," Cap said calmly. "It appears we have a stand-off. Several of you are going to die before you can crank those bows, so don't even start. Leyla, drop the first man that tries."
"We have a policy to condemn—" began one man.
" Yes, we've heard. But if it comes to a fire-fight I'm going to kill you first. So it won't do you much good personally," said Cap in a matter-of-fact voice. "And with that sort of threat waiting for us, we might as well go out fighting. Even if you get lucky, at least twelve of you are not going to make it. So . . . who'll be the first to move . . . and get killed? Maybe you should try another time instead, when the odds aren't stacked against you."
There was a long silence. Keilin was just beginning to hope when the Amphirian officer Cap had interrupted shook his head. "No." His voice was hard, flat and final.
He continued. "Your theft was the worst incident in Amphir's history as a safe-city. We cannot back off. It would cost all of us our jobs, and our city its reputation. You will return the black opal, and we will have ten times its weight of the thief's flesh. Then you can walk away from here."
Cap stood silent for a minute. Then: "We don't have the jewel any more."
The Amphirian officer shrugged. "Then it is twenty times its weight. And the name of the man who purchased it. He will return it, and be refunded. If he should refuse . . . then we count him as a thief, too. Come. The thief. It is one of those three, who actually took the stone. Then the rest of you can go." He pointed to Keilin, Bey and S'kith
Cap shrugged. "Keilin. You wanted to do it this way." Keilin felt his jaw dropping. Cap continued. "Twenty times the weight in flesh. See you don't take a drop of blood in the process."
The Amphirian laughed humorlessly. "We've heard that one before. The courts of Amphir were kind enough to pass a waiver, exempting us from all claims for damages caused in the execution of our duty. Now, to whom was the jewel sold, and for what price?"
"To the Tyrant. Twenty thousand in gold. Far more than it's worth, really. He wanted a jewel that had successfully been stolen from Amphir," Cap continued blandly, pushing Keilin forward.
"Hang on, Cap. You can't let the boy take the rap alone," said Beywulf, stepping forward. "You lot. I'm bigger than him, and it was only a little bitty stone anyway. Take your flesh out of me."
"No." S'kith too had stepped forward, his voice, as usual, terrifyingly flat. "You can take the flesh from my body. I am not so fat, and will eat better anyway. But try to take it from my friend here, and I will kill many of you first. Keilin, you let them take it from me. I will not feel the pain."
A snort came from behind them. It was Leyla. "Oh, that's enough, Captain Wickus. Yes, I recognize you, even if you don't remember me. Here. This is the gem." She produced a black opal.
The man accepted it warily. "Who are you?"
"Never you mind. I just remember you when you were a pompous little boy. Haven't changed much. Now you split the flesh cut between them. Off their buttocks. They can all afford to lose the thirty grains. Cap, give them an anesthetic," she said, queenly and commanding.
"I have been ordered to take it from their chests, madam." The word was a careful insult. "Inside their chests."
She shrugged. "Your orders don't permit you to interfere with innocent parties. They've confessed. Therefore the rest of us, Shael and Cap and I, are walking up to you now, innocent and untouchable. We'll watch you exact the fine. If you don't do it to my satisfaction, I'm going to rip you open from neck to ball bag, not that that's ever been any use to you. Shael'll do the same to another of you. Cap, how many do you think you can kill? Remember they're law officers. Can't touch us unless we break their law. They have to work within the local law too. Killing people is not against the law here, is it?"
Shael held her dagger as steadily as she could, wishing her hands weren't so shaky. She was too scared to trust her voice. She began to walk forward with Leyla and Cap, as Cap said savagely, "Not less than five, Leyla. Nasty deaths, too. Are they allowed to defend themselves?"
"Killing people is against the law in the Tyn States. Unless I command otherwise, of course," said the heavy-set man with the flying eyebrows so recognizable from the coins.
Shael dropped her knife. It clattered on the wooden slats, and splashed into the water below. "Father?"
"Yes, m'dear. What a chase you've led me on." He turned and called over his shoulder, "Henry Balscom."
He came forward out of the mist, the heavy browed, brutish face she had frozen into her memory, from Shapstone and the confrontation with Deshin. He was smiling now. "Mornin', yer Highness. Nice to see you again," he said, his coarse voice bringing back memories of the desperate chase in Shapstone's palace.
"You had agents among Deshin's traitors," she accused her father, her angry finger stabbing at him.
"I only knew about it at the very last moment. Barely in time to escape myself. You don't think I'd sacrifice such a proportion of my power willingly, do you?" he replied calmly.
"Excuse me," said Captain Wickus, hovering between relief at the intervention and annoyance at finding himself ignored, "Who are you? Will you take yourself and your child off this dock? I've permission from the Tyrant himself to use it. You're not wanted here."
For an answer Henry knocked his legs out from under him, and kicked him over the edge of the pier, to splash into the shallows below. He leaned over the edge to address the spluttering man. "Yer never address the Tyrant himself like that again, dog turd."
"Quite," said the Tyrant. "Now, dear. Let's go."
There was a silence, broken only by the sounds of Captain Wickus struggling to shore. "Like hell I will, Father. You've got some explaining to do."
He sighed. "It's cold and very early. I'll explain to you some other time. Right now I've more important things to do. Let's go and get you a bath and some clothes more fitting to your station."
"I'll jump over the pier edge and swim for the main channel if you come one step closer to me, before I've had some answers," she told him in a small hard voice. Keilin couldn't see it, but he knew that her chin would be coming up as she said this.
"Shael, stop being so childish. Come along now." Keilin could hear anger and just the edge of fear coming into the Tyrant's voice.
Shael read voices far more accurately than Keilin. With a defiant tilt of her head she stepped onto the very edge of the pier. "I want to know why you gave the use of this pier to this ambush party from Amphir. I also want to know how you got out of Shapstone. I don't believe you did. I'm willing to bet you sold yourself . . . to the Morkth."
A reluctant chuckle. "You're my daughter all right. Yes. An agreement was reached. The Morkth freed me to weaken Deshin's control. As to Amphir . . . Saril Jaine's defection left me rather weak in the covert operations area. So we used some of my lesser operatives, ones that had penetrated Amphir's cash-fat Jewel Police. It was from them that we got word of you and your companions. Before we could reach you, someone in your party was foolish enough to steal something from Amphir. From then we used their resources to keep track of the whole party. We were also obliged to keep them off your track somewhat. We couldn't chance you being hurt by accident while the thieves were being arrested."
He gestured at the dock. "We wanted you safe out of Deshin's territory, so we facilitated this. Of course we have a hand in the river blockade runners. Otherwise they might bring in things we didn't want, and allow things, like escapees and unaltered communiques from spies, to leave."
"So, here they are about to have pieces carved out of them, all merely as an aside to getting your dear daughter back. How charming. How well you reward the people who've kept me alive since you crawled away into the woodwork."
Keilin had felt the knife of her sarcasm often enough before. It was however plainly a novelty to the Tyrant. And not one he was enjoying either. "You should mind your tongue, daughter mine. You've picked up some appalling habits from these commoners."
She raised her eyebrows. "Fix it, Father. You created this mess. Now sort it out."
He looked at her, his eyes narrowing. "You really do have a mind of your own, don't you? We always thought you would be our greatest asset in extending the Tyn States. Now we are sure of it. What do you suggest we do, rapier-sharp child?"
"Don't be so patronizing, Father. I'm not exactly a little girl any more. Knowing you, I doubt if you have less than a thousand men back there. Toss this bunch into the river," she said coolly.
"Three thousand actually. And taking us hostage won't serve either. We took steps—which we're not planning to tell about." He smiled insincerely. "Not drowning . . . it's so bad for the water quality downstream. There are better ways. You"—he turned to the dripping captain—"We need to talk to you. Back there." He pointed to a low shed, dimly visible on the shore. "Wait."
They stayed like puppets. Well, mostly. Bey drifted toward Shael. "I can hear them perfectly well," he said quietly. "Your father is telling Wickus that, as you are about to marry his prince, he'd better cooperate. He's also said that once he's taken you away they're welcome to slit all our throats."
Leyla made a retching noise. "Shael. Prince Jaybe is at least fifty-five. He likes his girls young. Prepubescent. He keeps at least one with him all the time. Get used to the idea."
"It doesn't matter which midden he had planned to bribe with me. I'm not going. At least . . . I'll run away as soon as I can," she said quietly.
Captain Wickus was doing a wonderful job of fawning and shivering at the same time. "Ah . . . I believe you mentioned an anesthetic, my good lady. His Highness has assured me that it would be best to follow your suggestion after all. Er, so as not to affront you ladies, perhaps the pris . . . gentlemen will care to come to our temp'ry headquarters over there." He pointed at the hut from which he and the Tyrant had emerged. "Also I could grab a dry blanket."
"No. You do it right here. It won't be the first men's bare bottoms Shael and I've seen. We don't trust you. Besides, the shivering'll help you lose some of that lard." Leyla's voice was hard.
So Keilin found himself presenting his bare buttocks to have a lump the size of a half-thaler coin cut out of him. His face was burning considerably more than his bum. He had mutely submitted to Cap's injected local anesthetic. He'd quietly gone through S'kith's nerve-block exercises too. One of them had worked. The flesh was carefully weighed on antique jeweller's scales while the Tyrant snorted his impatience. A neat form of debt discharge was handed to Bey, who happened to be nearest.
"That's done then," said one of the Amphirians, who had been forced to cut with care he'd been ill prepared for. He decided to take out his ire in another way. He shoved Keilin right over the nearby pier edge. "Go for a wash, thief!"
Arms flailing, Keilin fell to splash in the cold black river water. For a moment he started to panic. He'd drown right here. Then his feet touched the ooze bottom. He was barely thigh-deep.
From above came the sound of several blows, as well as an anxious call of "Cay! Are you all right, Cay?"
"Fine!" he called up. Then realizing how ridiculous this sounded he continued, "Just wet. It's shallow here. I'll walk in and come round."
He waded towards the shore. The burst of intense worry and fear from Shael had washed through his mind like a tide. He knew now. He had to get her out of there. And tied to the last pier piles was the answer. He hadn't even seen it in the dark water. It was a wide flat-bottomed boat, hidden under the pier.
Now he understood. The river wharf's normal complement of vessels were lying at anchor somewhere off in the river. But their crews had come in, possibly leaving a watchman or two on the boats. He simply slashed the painter and scrambled into it. Using the pier pilings and timbers he silently pulled the craft along to where the acrimonious debate was continuing. Obviously his comment about the river being shallow here had been noticed. Shael had moved considerably further out along the pier, until she found the way behind her blocked too. Soon he was just below them. Bey's grizzly ancestry gave him preternaturally sharp hearing. He'd both heard and smelled Keilin coming back. There was really no need for the boy's whisper.
"And you want me to marry some fat old pervert. My! I should have stuck to Deshin. He was at least going to make me an empress."
"It's what you'll end up being, my dear. To a far greater empire than that fool can hold. Power stretching from Arlinn to Amphir. Between Amphir and my holdings, with the forces of Arlinn rallying to my call, I'll crush his pretensions very rapidly. The fickle ones that rallied to him will desert him just as fast. Anyway, as to your future husband's sexual preferences, they need not concern you. We had you taught that. You'll find your own discreet entertainment. At least he's normal, not like your other suitor."
"At least Deshin's lover was there of his own free will, and not as a confused little girl told to please the prince . . . or else." Leyla's voice spoke volumes.
"Shut up, woman. Hold your tongue before your betters."
"To hell with you, you pompous old fart. And I'll kill you before those bowmen of yours can get a decent bead on me," said Leyla, angry now beyond logic.
Shael laughed. A harsh, bitter sound. But it did stop the incipient conflict for the moment. "Betters!" she jeered. "One of my friends is an original member of the Cru you pay lip service to. The others are people that any just ruler would ennoble tomorrow. From you all they can expect is murder. However, if you guarantee their safety, I'll put up with your scheme. Once they're safe to Dublin Moss, that is. Well?"
Keilin felt the man above him suddenly snap. It was a terrifying maelstrom of rage, insane hatred and desire. How dared she dictate terms!? She was just like that bitch of a mother of hers. Well, he'd killed that fettering ice box as soon as she'd littered this one. Now he'd rid himself of her. He would not be controlled. He was the master!
The boy had his hand in the ankle pouch even as she said, "Well?" He stood up in the boat holding the core section as close to the boards of the pier as he could reach. He shut his mind off from the bellow for guards, and simply reconstructed in exquisite detail her naked body lying on his bunk in the moonlight. Then he allowed his mind to go further . . . filling in the details, even the scent of her . . .
"Jump!" Beywulf shouted. "Come on! Keil's got us a boat." They splashed into the water like ripe fruit all around him. Some things even hit the boat. Keilin grabbed S'kith and hauled him inboard before he even had a chance to panic. Then the two of them heaved Shael out from Leyla's supporting arms. The boat was moving away from the pier into the mist. Looking over the side Keilin saw Bey and Cap pushing it along. And the cold misty air was full of a delicate perfume. Keilin passed an oar to S'kith and pushed them still further out into the mist. Ahead he could see the dark outline of the river-parallel quay.
As the sonic boom struck, Cap, Beywulf and a third man struggled onboard. They slid under the quay, feet thundering above them, and out onto the river. The supercargo found a knife being pressed to his throat. Behind them the mist was suddenly retina-searing purple. "Hell's teeth!" Cap burst out. "That's no hand weapon. The Beta-Morkth have brought a bloody strike craft in. Over the side everyone, and hang onto the boat. You too, you Amphirian fool. They have heat-imaging sights on those lasers. Mist and darkness are no cover at all."