The Red Wolf Conspiracy Part 49

"An age of peace cannot begin with a plan stained by treachery," said Isiq, "nor by the sacrifice of an innocent soul. Don't argue, Doctor! Let the Emperor condemn me if he dares. But from this moment I swear before you all: Thasha Isiq's life is no one's but her own."

FROM THE SECRET JOURNAL OF.

G. STARLING FIFFENGURT, QUARTERMASTER.

Friday, 6 Teala. The most horrible day of my life. Is all the world gone mad? Nay, it has long been so; I just had no eyes to see it.

Fell asleep last night still jotting down all that transpired at the governor's table. Frightening enough, especially the attempt on Lady Oggosk's life, & the outlandish things Pathkendle & Lady Thasha shouted at the end. But those events were nothing.

As Mr. Hercol predicted, the remaining five five of Amba.s.sador Isiq's "honor guards"--all Ott's men--somehow received a signal from their master, & fled the ship before we returned. We informed the palace, & left it at that. We departed Ormael with the sunrise, making eight knots on an honest easterly. of Amba.s.sador Isiq's "honor guards"--all Ott's men--somehow received a signal from their master, & fled the ship before we returned. We informed the palace, & left it at that. We departed Ormael with the sunrise, making eight knots on an honest easterly.

Not a league out of Ormael port, however, a sloop came up behind us with two red pennants on her foremast: grave tidings. We heeled round, & in minutes the little ship was alongside.

Such awful news: the governor's whole palace struck down with talking fever! Fifty guards, servants, cooks, groundskeepers-- & of course the governor, his wife & eight children. All babbling & foaming at the mouth. The palace was sealed tight--no one allowed in, or out. But there was worse. The Lady Syrarys, dead! Out of her mind with fever or remorse at her own evil acts, she hurled herself from her prison tower into the sea. The body is yet to be found: it seems she was in chains, & the iron bore her to the depths. Mistress Thasha & her father are still weeping, even though the woman betrayed them. Love is such a pitiless thing.

But surely the fever threatened Chathrand Chathrand, too? After all, we dined with them night after night. Dr. Chadfallow bellowed questions to the sloop's commander, & soon believed his report: talking fever, without a doubt. Then came the only good news of the day. Turning to us, he said we had nothing to fear. "Talking fever strikes instantly, if it strikes at all," he said. "We are none of us infected."

He refused to return to Ormael, but gave strict orders for the treatment of the sick. "Millet and prunes! Nothing else for a fortnight! And send word to me in Simja of their condition!"

Rattled, we took the Chathrand Chathrand on. We did not fall sick: thank the G.o.ds the doctor was right. But I declare this ship is changed since Ormael. For the first time, a report of a fight between the Plapp's Pier & Burnscove Boys. Not a big fight, but as a taste of things to come it could not be worse: in Ether-horde, the two gangs never break a truce without eventually going to war. on. We did not fall sick: thank the G.o.ds the doctor was right. But I declare this ship is changed since Ormael. For the first time, a report of a fight between the Plapp's Pier & Burnscove Boys. Not a big fight, but as a taste of things to come it could not be worse: in Ether-horde, the two gangs never break a truce without eventually going to war.

The first-cla.s.s pa.s.sengers have locked themselves behind the Money Gate, afraid of the fever despite the doctor's words. And the sudden return of the ex-tarboys, Pathkendle & Undrabust, has set tongues wagging on every deck.

It is no secret that they & Lady Thasha had some adventure along the Haunted Coast & that the doctor & Mr. Hercol rescued 'em. This scares the men half to death. A mob of sailors stopped the boys on the pier & emptied their pockets, asking if they had any trinkets from the Coast. Nothing at all, they replied--but Pathkendle said this while pinching the skin of his collarbone & staring off into the distance, like a man missing his sweetheart. Of course, I knew who she must be--the somber little sponge-diver girl, Marila--but it was a weird look all the same & the men were h.e.l.lish disturbed.

No one searched the rich folk, naturally, & that was how the trouble began. Hercol came aboard this morning with only his sword & a shoulder-bag, but the good doctor arrived with a crate. It was no larger than a pushcart, but it took nine strong stevedores to wrestle it up the gangplank. Was it full of lead? Chadfallow gave no sign. "To my quarters with that!" he ordered, directing them.

But as they set foot on deck, we all heard it: a man's voice, far away, roaring. It seemed to come from the lower timbers of the Chathrand Chathrand itself. It was the voice of a madman--wicked, murderous & joyful at once: itself. It was the voice of a madman--wicked, murderous & joyful at once: "GIVE IT TO ME! GIVE IT TO ME! GIVE IT TO ME!".

We all froze. All except Pazel Pathkendle, who ran up to Chadfallow & caught his sleeve. "You can hear him! I know you can! Please, Ignus--"

The doctor turned & shoved him so hard the boy fell to the deck. Pathkendle jumped up & turned to us, pointing.

"You heard him! All of you heard him!" heard him! All of you heard him!"

But had we? The voice was silent now, & the sailors made the sign of the Tree & ran about their business. And Rin forgive me, so did I. Was ever a man given a plainer choice of bravery or skunkish fear? I chose fear, & whatever follows now I shall blame myself.

Later in the morning I crossed paths with the boys again. Pazel Pathkendle had a fresh black eye. "What leprous dog gave you that?" I demanded. "Who's next off this ship?"

They hung their heads. "Rose," whispered Pathkendle at last. "He said it was my last warning."

Then my shame grew stronger. I took a deep breath & marched to the captain's door. I knocked. In a heartbeat Rose threw the door open.

"What is it?" cried he. "Danger, Fiffengurt? I heard no cry. Are we beset? Tell me, tell me, blast you!"

When I stammered out that I had come to learn the reason for the beating of one of my tarboys (for the Code bars even a captain from striking a boy in the absence of witnesses), he looked at me as if I were mad.

"Pazel Pathkendle," he said, "is the most dangerous person on this ship. I shouldn't have smacked him--I should have put a knife in his gut. Look out!"

He flinched, staring wildly past my shoulder. I jumped half out of my skin & turned about: nothing. Rose slammed the door behind me.

I cleared my throat. "I won't stand for this, Captain," I shouted, not very boldly, though. He made no answer, & I turned & descended the ladderway, down & down, to the afterhold, seeking that mysterious voice. The augrongs were there, half dozing as always, & a fair number of enormous rats. But no strange men. I worked my way forward, searching for anything unusual. I was startled by how well stocked we were--enough grain & hardtack & beef chips to see us home to Etherhorde, with food to spare. Had it all been laid away in Ormael, while I was out looking for the Lady Thasha? I made a point to question Swellows.

So there I was, moving aft, when who should appear before me but that cripple-footed rat! He sat there on his haunches, waiting for me.

"Git, you!" I shouted, looking for something to throw.

And save me, Rin, the beggar answered, "No, Mr. Fiffengurt."

I nearly dropped the lamp. "You can talk!" I whispered.

Ratty just nodded, like I needn't state the obvious. Which I promptly did again.

"My name is Felthrup Stargraven," said Ratty. "You rescued me from the bilge-pipe. I am in your debt forever."

"By the buddin' branch of the blary beautiful Tree!"

"I should love to make conversation," Ratty tells me. "Nothing more so! But I am fleeing a monster. Will you kindly examine the goods stowed by the mizzenmast step?"

"You can talk!"

"Goodbye, Mr. Fiffengurt. I thank you for your idrolos idrolos, and for my life."

He turned & limped off into the darkness. At the edge of my lamplight, he pulled up short & looked back at me. "By the way," he squeaks, "everything they told you is true." "everything they told you is true."

Then he was gone. And a second later Sniraga rushed past my legs. I chased after her--what if I heard 'im plead for mercy in her mouth? But she was gone in the darkness, same as Ratty.

My Annabel likes that word, idrolos idrolos. The courage to see. I stood there, worried my brain had sprung a leak. Then I made my way to the mizzenmast step.

The hold of Chathrand Chathrand is like the bas.e.m.e.nt of a castle. It has rooms & shafts, catwalks & tunnels. It takes a solid week just to is like the bas.e.m.e.nt of a castle. It has rooms & shafts, catwalks & tunnels. It takes a solid week just to count count what's stored down there. Naturally we carry enough wood for any repairs the Great Ship might require. There's spare mastwood, wales, planking, transom knees. A spare bowsprit. Even a lump of oak for carving a new Goose-Girl, should we lose Her Ladyship. But when I crept down to the foot of the mizzenmast I found timbers that had nothing to do with repairs. They were broken, smashed & filthy Twisted bolts & snapped cleats & bits of rigging trailed from 'em. Some of the wood was even burned. what's stored down there. Naturally we carry enough wood for any repairs the Great Ship might require. There's spare mastwood, wales, planking, transom knees. A spare bowsprit. Even a lump of oak for carving a new Goose-Girl, should we lose Her Ladyship. But when I crept down to the foot of the mizzenmast I found timbers that had nothing to do with repairs. They were broken, smashed & filthy Twisted bolts & snapped cleats & bits of rigging trailed from 'em. Some of the wood was even burned.

"G.o.ds of fire!" I said. "It's parts of a wreck!"

But what wreck? It hadn't come from the Haunted Coast--these pieces were stowed under under goods we'd taken on in Ether-horde. We'd carried this trash for months! Huge timbers, too: some of the largest I'd ever seen--except for what the goods we'd taken on in Ether-horde. We'd carried this trash for months! Huge timbers, too: some of the largest I'd ever seen--except for what the Chathrand Chathrand herself is made of. And what for pity's sake was it good for? Nothing at all, so far as I could see, except tossing over the side ... herself is made of. And what for pity's sake was it good for? Nothing at all, so far as I could see, except tossing over the side ...

'Twas then I heard a rustling behind me. "Come out, whoever the blary h.e.l.l you are!" I growled, spinning round. "Fiffengurt's not afraid of you!"

No one came. But now I was facing a broken beam with a copper faceplate. IMS CHATHRAND, it read. CAPTAIN'S DAY-CABIN. STRICTLY PRIVATE.

I felt a cold, murthy hand on my heart. I looked further: there was a cabin door with the Chathrand Family coat of arms. Tattered sailcloth with CHATHRAND sewn into the hem. A Chathrand Chathrand life preserver, snapped in two. life preserver, snapped in two.

This is wickedness, I thought. This is evil from the Pits This is evil from the Pits.

It was our own wreck I was looking at. A simulation of it, I mean: about as much as would wash up ash.o.r.e, if we wrecked nearby. Tossing over the side was exactly exactly what this junk would be good for. what this junk would be good for.

I had to sit down. Someone needed the world to think us wrecked. Someone meant Chathrand Chathrand to disappear. to disappear.

Ratty's voice echoed in my brain: Everything they told you is true Everything they told you is true. And the lad & Mistress Thasha had said we would be crossing the Nelluroq with (Rin help us) the s.h.a.ggat Ness aboard. And that his mage was alive & behind it all. And that the Emperor wanted war.

My knees were shaking. Who could I tell? Who could I trust, out of eight hundred souls? Only two tarboys, a rich girl & a rat.

Do something, Fiffengurt, I told myself. Trust someone. Form a gang. Take the ship away from Rose.

I sat down with the lamp between my feet. I let five minutes pa.s.s, then five more. And then it was too late.

"MAN ADRIFT! MAN ADRIFT! TWO POINTS OFF OFF THE STARBOARD BOW!" THE STARBOARD BOW!".

The voices reached me faintly. I thought, What now, blast it, how can things get any-- What now, blast it, how can things get any-- * *

* At this point Mr. Fiffengurt's journal is torn in two: the remaining pages are lost.--EDITOR. At this point Mr. Fiffengurt's journal is torn in two: the remaining pages are lost.--EDITOR.

The Calm

6 Teala 941

84th day from Etherhorde

"A man it most certainly is," said Isiq, peering through his telescope. "But how did he get there? He has no sail, no mast, even. There are oarlocks, but no oars. How did that boat get so far from land?"

It was a fair question. The Chathrand Chathrand was six hours south of Ormael now, almost exactly halfway to Simja. Hundreds of men, sweating in the midday sun, gaped at the sight: a forlorn little lifeboat two miles off, with one ragged occupant, seated and barely moving, nagged by shrieking gulls. There was a fighting shield propped in the stern, and some large, lumpy shape beneath a canvas at his feet. They could see no more from this distance. was six hours south of Ormael now, almost exactly halfway to Simja. Hundreds of men, sweating in the midday sun, gaped at the sight: a forlorn little lifeboat two miles off, with one ragged occupant, seated and barely moving, nagged by shrieking gulls. There was a fighting shield propped in the stern, and some large, lumpy shape beneath a canvas at his feet. They could see no more from this distance.

On the quarterdeck, Captain Rose was speaking to his gunnery officer. Lady Oggosk and Sergeant Drellarek waited at his side.

Isiq and Hercol stood at the mizzen, with Pazel, Thasha and Neeps beside them. Chadfallow stood a little apart, brooding, wrapped in silence. Pazel had not spoken to him since the doctor shoved him to the deck.

"It is a Volpek lifeboat," said Hercol. "And that is a Volpek war-shield in the bow, I think. But the man is small for a mercenary. I wish I could see his face."

Thasha took the telescope from her father, and winced a little as she raised it to her eye: Sandor Ott's fist had left a wide purple bruise on her face. The man in the boat had his back to the Chathrand Chathrand. He was gesturing wildly, as if carrying on an excited debate. His feet rested on a black mound of some sort.

"Those hands of his," she said. "All skin and bones. I've seen them before, I--"

BOOM.

Smoke rose from a forward gunport: the Chathrand Chathrand had fired a signal-shot. The gulls scattered briefly, but the man did not even look over his shoulder. had fired a signal-shot. The gulls scattered briefly, but the man did not even look over his shoulder.

"He's deaf, or mad," declared Eberzam Isiq.

"May we look through your scope, Your Excellency?" Pazel asked.

Isiq nodded and Thasha handed over the instrument, and the boys pa.s.sed it back and forth. Then they looked at each other and nodded.

"No doubt about it," said Neeps.

"It's Mr. Druffle," Pazel said.

And so it was. The freebooter was thinner and more ragged than ever, which Pazel would have thought impossible were he not seeing it with his own eyes. His feet were bare and sun-blistered, and his black hair was snarled in dirty knots.

"How the devil did that lunkhead get out here?" here?" Pazel asked. Pazel asked.

"Not by chance, I think," said Hercol.

"What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, Hercol looked at Chadfallow. The doctor would not meet his eye.

The Chathrand Chathrand sailed a little nearer. Captain Rose, locked in conversation with Oggosk, stole nervous glances at the lifeboat. sailed a little nearer. Captain Rose, locked in conversation with Oggosk, stole nervous glances at the lifeboat.

"There is a body beneath his feet," said a sudden voice in Pazel's ear. said a sudden voice in Pazel's ear.

Pazel reacted as if stung by a bee, making Thasha turn and stare.

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly.

The voice belonged to an ixchel man. Not Taliktrum, and yet Pazel was certain he had heard the voice before. Whoever he was, he was hiding just a few yards away. He used his natural voice: no one but Pazel heard a thing. "A body," "A body," he repeated. he repeated. "Tell them." "Tell them."

And Pazel did. Once you knew what to look for it was plainly true: Druffle's feet were resting on someone's chest, draped in a black, enveloping cloak. A heavy body, it was, of a rather portly man or woman.

All at once Pazel realized where he had heard the ixchel's voice. In Rose's cabin. It was the voice of the captain's poison-taster.

"Steldak," he whispered.