The Red Wolf Conspiracy Part 46

Saving Klyst's people had been his only thought. But in so doing he had aided a monster.

"I'll kill you!"

Arunis glanced around, trying to locate the source of the meaningless squawk. And then-- BOOM.

A violent wave. Pazel was hurled back and down. Volpeks tumbled from the deck. Arunis lost his grip on the Wolf and plunged into the sea.

Cannon fire!

Somehow Pazel rose. No one was motionless now. Men ran, oars churned; terror showed on every face.

BOOM. BOOM.

They were under attack.

On Pazel's right a skiff was blasted to splinters. The air was full of wood, water, blood. Pazel swam toward the nearest boat, screaming for help. It was overfull: Volpeks and their young prisoners, stuffed like worms in a baitbox. And it was drawing away, much faster than he could swim.

"Help! Help!" ("Kquak! Kquak!") He chased it, but his strength was gone. Another wave sank him, and when he struggled to the surface again he knew it was for the last time.

The drowned, like those who die of thirst, suffer visions: every sailor knows that. So Pazel was not too surprised when familiar faces appeared in the departing boat. There was Neeps, throwing punches. There was Thasha fighting like a champion. And there, dashing one Volpek after another into the sea, was Hercol of Tholja.s.sa. A pretty dream, he thought, not believing in it for an instant.

BOOM.

The fighters ducked. Something whistled overhead. Then came pain, and darkness like sudden nightfall, and quiet at last.

A Betrayal Ended

5 Teala 941

83rd day from Etherhorde

Moonlight. No sound of a battle.

Was he sleeping on the bottom of the sea?

No, he could not breathe water anymore. If he were under the waves it meant he was dead, and that seemed likely enough. But if he had drowned his lips could not be parched, nor his scalp tickled by what felt suspiciously like a flea.

"Well," said a man's deep voice, "the last time it was you who waited on me. Now I can return the favor. Care to sit up and drink something?"

Pazel's head ached terribly. He was in a small, neat cabin without lamp or candle. And seated on the corner of the bed was Ignus Chadfallow.

"You're here!"

"And so, more surprisingly, are you. Don't jump up! You took a flying plank to the back of the head--a blow that would have split a coconut. Fortunately your skull is rather harder."

He smiled--the first smile Pazel had seen on his face in years. But Pazel found he could not return it: Chadfallow had played him one trick too many. The doctor's smile faded, and it was then that Pazel noticed how tired he looked. There were lines of care on his face that had not been there in Sorrophran, and his eyes were grim.

A memory suddenly blossomed in Pazel's head. "My father was here!" he said. "I heard him--was it just a few minutes ago? I heard him talking about me."

Chadfallow lowered his eyes. "You have been asleep for twenty hours, Pazel."

For a moment Pazel refused to believe it: the voice had been so real, so close. But of course it had been a dream; his father could not have been there. And yet-- "Where are we?"

"Two leagues from Ormael City, I should say. We'll be docking within the hour."

"Ormael! How did we get here? What ship is this?"

"The brig Hemeddrin Hemeddrin. A Volpek warship, but we have found her a better flag. Rise carefully, if you can rise at all, and put these on." He handed Pazel a shirt and pair of breeches. "They are the smallest I could find. Volpeks do not keep tarboys."

Pazel got to his feet, wincing. Every muscle in his body hurt. As he dressed, Chadfallow bent over a sack at his feet and withdrew a gla.s.s bottle. Pulling the stopper, he decanted a few ounces into a mug and held it out to Pazel.

"Drink."

Pazel just looked at him. No other word could have done more to remind him of his distrust of Ignus Chadfallow. The doctor took in his expression and smiled sadly.

"It's medicine, my boy. A powerful but entirely unmagical sort, and the very thing for one in your condition. Go on, drink it down."

Pazel shut his eyes. He drank. And retched. "It tastes like something dead." dead."

"Oil of grubroot," said Chadfallow. "The caviar of emetics. Here you are." He handed Pazel a bra.s.s dish.

"What's this for?"

Chadfallow said nothing; he appeared to be counting seconds. All at once Pazel doubled over, vomiting copiously into the dish. Chad-fallow studied his expulsions with interest.

"No ulcranous pills!" he said. "You're lucky; but then Arunis didn't have you in his keeping long. The other divers coughed up a number of tiny pills, which were perhaps embedded in their biscuits. Awful weapons: they are coated with a lacquer that dissolves over the course of ten days. After that the beads shatter, filling the stomach with powdered gla.s.s. Death follows--slowly."

"He was going to kill us!"

"After you brought him the Wolf. He wanted no one left alive to tell tales."

"Have you given the others that grubroot stuff?"

"Of course. Now, can you walk? People are waiting to see you."

Chadfallow opened the door, and they stepped out into a small wardroom.

"Pazel!"

Thasha jumped up so fast she nearly overturned the table where she was sitting with Neeps, Marila and Mintu. She had cut her hair as short as a tarboy's--hacked it off with a knife, by the look of it. She and Neeps ran to embrace him.

"You choose the worst times to have those fits," Thasha laughed.

"There's no good good time," said Pazel, grinning too. time," said Pazel, grinning too.

"You old dog!" said Neeps. "You really fixed Arunis! Last I saw he was floundering in the water, screaming about a scarlet ray. Did your murth-girl send that ray?"

Pazel's smile faded. His murth-girl. Why had she vanished? Was that how her people died? Or could murths only be seen when you were under their spell--or when they were under yours?

He gave his chest a quick pinch. The sh.e.l.l was still there.

"It must have been Klyst," he said. "But what happened? Thasha, was that really you in the boat? You and--"

He whirled around. There by the masthead stood Hercol. The Tholja.s.san smiled warmly.

"Yes, Pazel, I too am alive--thanks to you. Had you not alerted my brethren I should have died in Uturphe, just as my old master intended."

"Your old master?"

"Sandor Ott," said Hercol.

"What?" cried Pazel. cried Pazel.

"I couldn't believe it either," said Thasha, smiling slyly. "I knew someone someone had made a monster out of him, but--" had made a monster out of him, but--"

"Ott did not make me a warrior," said Hercol quickly, and with no hint of an answering smile. "He s.n.a.t.c.hed me, rather, from a Tholja.s.san fighting school. Half-trained, and wholly trusting. But this is not the time to discuss my dark years with the Secret Fist."

"But you were dying in Uturphe!" said Pazel. "How in Pitfire did you get Aere?"

It had all begun with those two riders, Hercol explained. They had alerted the Tholja.s.san Consul, who had sprung into action when he learned of Hercol's plight, and located him the next morning in a poorhouse, his knife wound already inflamed. The Consul saw that the wound was properly cleaned and dressed. Soon Hercol woke, and begged his fellow Tholja.s.san to search the city for Pazel.

"He put nine men on the task," said Hercol, "and soon enough the trail led to the false inn on Blackwell Street, and to the Flikker-men. They fled my brethren down their holes and sewers, but a Tholja.s.san does not turn easily from his prize. Of course, you and Neeps had already been taken inland, to the flesh market. But my brethren recovered these."

Hercol held out his palm, and to Pazel's astonishment, there lay his parents' gifts, the knife and the ivory whale.

"Thank you, Hercol," he said, humbled, and pressed them to his chest.

Of course Pazel wished to know what had happened to them all. They tried to explain, but with so many tellers the tale became a patchwork of details and anecdotes, and he had to stop them time and again with simple questions. At last the picture emerged: how Hercol had subjected his wound to the lightning-fast cures of a Slugdra ghost-doctor (and survived them). How he had hunted Ott's men through the low places of Uturphe, killing three and frightening all, for these lesser spies had never crossed wits or swords with one trained to serve the Secret Fist. How he learned that Chadfallow too was marked for death, and so met his ship and persuaded him not to pa.s.s a single night in Uturphe. How together the men had boarded a Simja-bound ship full of cooks, seamstresses, masons, balladeers, dog-catchers and specialists in the elimination of wasps, all claiming some connection to Thasha's wedding. How they disembarked at Ormael to find Chathrand Chathrand already docked and the city in an uproar, for Thasha had run away in the night. already docked and the city in an uproar, for Thasha had run away in the night.

Ott's spies were scouring Ormael City. But Hercol had turned again, as Tholja.s.sans will in a crisis, to his kindred. As it happened, several Tholja.s.sans were preparing to ride north toward the Crab Fens, responding to an emergency letter. Apparently a Volpek brig--this very Hemeddrin Hemeddrin--had been raiding the coast for a fortnight, landing men in defenseless villages and kidnapping boys and girls in their teens. The ship had last been spotted running straight for the Haunted Coast.

"Ott wasn't interested in Tholja.s.san youths," said Hercol, "but I was. And when I learned that Mr. Ket, the soap merchant with a knack for turning up at odd times, had left the Chathrand Chathrand and was also headed north, I knew the coincidence was too great. The doctor and I set off with my countrymen on horseback. We caught up with Arunis and his wagon-team at the edge of the Fens. But we were five men against fifty Volpeks and a mage--and we saw no sign of Thasha, hidden as she was. The best we could do was slow Arunis down." and was also headed north, I knew the coincidence was too great. The doctor and I set off with my countrymen on horseback. We caught up with Arunis and his wagon-team at the edge of the Fens. But we were five men against fifty Volpeks and a mage--and we saw no sign of Thasha, hidden as she was. The best we could do was slow Arunis down."

"So it was you who blocked the road with trees," Pazel asked.

Hercol nodded. "With a little help from the freebooters."

"Freebooters? You mean smugglers, men like Mr. Druffle?"

"I do," said Hercol. "But Mr. Druffle had best not show his face among the freebooters of Chereste again, after helping Arunis raid their territory. They They are wise enough never to seek treasure among the shipwrecks of the Haunted Coast. And they appear to have made peace with the murths and spirits there. No living men know that country better." are wise enough never to seek treasure among the shipwrecks of the Haunted Coast. And they appear to have made peace with the murths and spirits there. No living men know that country better."

He seemed about to say more, but then changed his mind. Pazel saw Neeps and Thasha look quickly away. Confused, Pazel glanced from face to face. No one met his eye.

Hercol cleared his throat. "Others of my kinfolk met us in the dunes. All told we were but fifteen strong. The freebooters were not many, either: another dozen at the most. They were brave, though, and they had boats hidden in a secret lodge in the North Fens. They were quite eager to help us drive the Volpeks out."

"As the Mzithrinis might have been," put in Chadfallow, "if only--"

"Mzithrinis}" Pazel nearly jumped from the bench. "What Mzithrinis? Where did they come from?" Pazel nearly jumped from the bench. "What Mzithrinis? Where did they come from?"

"We have all been asking that question," said Chadfallow. "Perhaps they were outlaws, enemies of the Five Kings driven into exile. But it is just as likely they were spies. The Mzithrinis surely knew that something odd was brewing in the Gulf of Thol. One does not bring three ships and a hundred Volpeks that close to the Pentarchy and escape unnoticed. My guess is that they were dispatched to find out what Arunis was up to, and stumbled on Thasha quite by accident. Unfortunately--or perhaps very fortunately--they are all dead. If they were agents of the Five Kings, it would hardly do for them to turn up at Thasha's wedding and identify her."

"I wish they would," said Thasha. "If Prince Falmurqat knew what I looked like then, blood leaking down my chin and all, he'd be the one running away from this marriage."

"Hear our mistress of peace," sighed Chadfallow. "In any case, those six will make no report. But they did not walk to the Haunted Coast. Somewhere they had a boat, and few are the boats that would cross the Gulf of Thol with a crew of six. Others may have watched your fight from a dune-top, Hercol."

"What is done cannot be undone," said Hercol. "And Thasha had no better choice--indeed, she did what I would have done myself under the circ.u.mstances."

"At last a kind word," said Thasha. "Hercol cut off my hair with a knife, Pazel, and dipped me in swamp-muck, and made me go and surrender to that Druffle of yours. And Druffle actually believed I was a Tholja.s.san sponge-diver who'd given up trying to escape."

"You don't look a bit Tholja.s.san," said Marila. "Druffle must be a fool."

"He was enchanted," said Chadfallow. "Magically enslaved by Arunis, Rin knows for how long. We have never seen the real man."

"I can live without that pleasure," said Neeps. "But if only you'd caught us still ash.o.r.e! If Pazel hadn't been sent underwater, and talked with the sea-murths, Arunis never would have found the Wolf at all."

There was a brief silence.

"I only wanted him to leave," said Pazel. "Klyst told me that when men disturb the Haunted Coast, it destroys the ripestiy ripestiy, the magic that keeps them alive. It's not right for men to do that. Her people have lived there for thousands of years."

"You have learned things no human ever knew," said Chadfallow quietly.

"Well, I don't want to learn another language like hers," Pazel said, so fiercely that they all looked up. "Klyst called me land-boy land-boy--do you want to know why? Because the word for 'human' is striglyffn-chik striglyffn-chik, that's why. I'll have to know that forever. But I'm not making sense. I'll be quiet. Striglyffn-chik Striglyffn-chik. Sorry."

This time the silence was longer. The others had winced at the screeching noise: sea-murth syllables torn from a human throat. Marila and Mintu gaped like fish. "He's got the hiccups," whispered the small boy.

"Pazel," said Thasha slowly, "what will you have to know forever?"

"That word," he said. "It's the only word they have for 'human.' But it means 'the beasts who will kill us all.' That's how they see us. I wish I didn't know."

When no one resumed the tale, Pazel took a deep breath. "What I do want to know is how you beat so many Volpeks. You were outnumbered, what? Three to one?"

"Closer to four," said Dr. Chadfallow. "We owe our success to Tholja.s.san tactics."