Ambition and Alavidha (30 page)

“It’s difficult
to make out but it looks like, I think the first word is Count, yes
it is, then the second word looks like it might be Peter but the
second ‘e’ could be an ‘a’, Smith and a wriggle that could be
anything.”

“Let me see.”
She handed it over.

“Yes,” said
Daniel, scrutinising the document, “Count Peter Smith. I don’t know
him well but I am acquainted with his eldest son, he’s the same age
as me. I was groomsman at his wedding. Good man. Fiercely loyal to
the crown, as all of the southerly ducal houses are. I wonder how
your Susa Malkum persuaded him to issue this? It’s basically got
the same power as a royal edict; he must have talked pretty
persuasively.”

“He might know
what it is we are searching for and realises the danger, I wonder
how much Susa Malkum told him? He can’t have told him the full
truth surely? Probably used our cover story about the theft of the
McAllister sword. Hope he doesn’t put two and two together and make
a credible four of it and send word back to Murdoch. If he has we
might be battling against more than the King of Leithe’s agents all
anxious to get their hands on the core. My father is very worried
about that possibility.”

Josei, who had
been listening, added his bit
: they are monitoring all his
letters to the Queen and to Murdoch. Susa Malkum and Freya will
make sure no word of the real reason gets out but he did have to
tell him more than he wished to get him to issue the document
:

Thalia repeated
Josei’s words to Daniel, adding, “it’s unlikely we’ll have to go
through Murdoch anyway. If our suspicions are right it is to Leithe
we will be going.”

* * * * *

“Have you had
any problems with the Leithe Navy Captain?” Daniel asked Alun
Hallam over dinner, “I’d heard that its ship numbers are
growing.”

“Not a one.
There’s a sort of undefined line which separates our respective
spheres of influence. We don’t sail on to their side and they do
the same with ours. The situation is tense but not that tense,
yet.”

“Where does
Galliard sit?”

“It’s well
inside our waters.”

“That’s good,
one less thing to worry about.”

“We’ll reach it
at Eighth Bell the day after tomorrow. How do you want to play it
Vadeln Thalia? I’ll be going ashore when we berth, I have to
register with the Port Authorities. The Cartel is very big on
everything being documented and in its proper place.”

“May I join
you?” she asked.

“I was hoping
you would. We could kill two vuz with one stone and ask them about
recent arrivals, not that they will hold records of individual
passengers, That’s left to the inns and hostels, they’re more
concerned about cargoes but you never know.”

“I can go
ashore,” interrupted Zeb, “ask some questions.”

“I think our
Zeb would manage to fit right in,” agreed Daniel, “keep out of any
trouble though, no lifting little treasures out of unsuspecting
pockets for instance.”

“He is rather
good at that, isn’t he?” replied Thalia, laughing but holding on to
Zeb’s innocent-looking face with a stern gaze. The evening before
Zeb had treated them to a demonstration of his skills. “I’m
repeating Daniel’s warning. I don’t want to have to bail you out of
jail.”

“I’ll stay here
with Josei and Vya,” said Daniel. “Lind presence would arouse
comment and that’s something we want to avoid if possible. I don’t
sound like a Vadeln of the Vada either, uniform or not.”

“They’ll
understand,” agreed Thalia referring to the fact that Josei and Vya
would have to remain on the ship. Then a sense of mischievousness
reared itself within Thalia’s breast. “I think you should join us
ashore Vadeln Daniel. Think of it as a chance to strut around in
Vada maroon.”

Daniel gave her
a withering look which she ignored.

“What are the
rules about warships in harbour Captain?” she asked. “Is there a
limit on the time we can stay here? I seem to remember reading
something about that.”

“Only in times
of war,” he answered, “and there is no war around, yet. If we were
at war and there was an opposing warship in harbour when we arrived
we would have to give them a day before following.”

“I don’t
understand,” piped up Zeb from his position behind Daniel.

“Gives a
smaller vessel a sporting chance to get away,” Alun Hallam
explained. “Now, I’ve got orders from the Admiral to help you in
every way I can. When you leave the island I am authorised to take
you where you need to go, within reason.”

“Could you
define within reason?” asked Daniel.

“I won’t go
into the territorial waters of Leithe, I don’t want to provoke an
international incident, nor is my command a ship of the line. She’s
built for speed, not for taking a pounding from cannonball after
cannonball and things are tense enough already. Rumour has it that
Cadan of Leithe has asked the fleets of Randall and Eilidon to ally
with his. If they do then the combined fleets would certainly be
able to threaten the navies of Murdoch and even Argyll, though not
both together. A three-way stand off. That would be the best
situation.”

“But if his
fleet was joined to Murdoch’s, they could rival Argyll’s?”

“Yes.”

“So Leithe
needs
Murdoch’s fleet?”

“I’d say so,
yes, it’s a big worry that your Queen might ally with Leithe.”

“That’s what
he’s playing at,” announced Daniel with dawning realisation. “He
doesn’t really want Murdoch itself, just the fleet to enable him to
become Emperor of the Islands of the Great Eastern Sea. Stupid of
me, I should have guessed. If something should happen to Queen
Antoinette she would be succeeded by her daughter as Queen
Antoinette the Second. Prince Crispin of Leithe, her husband,
would, in effect be ruler of Murdoch and he could order the fleet
to join with the fleet of his father to defeat the navy of
Argyll.”

“I think you
just might be right. At least it is the most rational idea I’ve
heard to date. You’ve got a fine analytical brain in you,”
exclaimed Alun Hallam. “I’ll get word about your suspicions, nay,
prognosis, to my Admiral. Don’t fret. It’s not going to happen.
Forewarned is forearmed.” He lowered his voice, “it’s not common
knowledge but the Admirals of Murdoch and Argyll
do
speak to
one another. Why, they might even be friends!”

“What an
amazing thing,” said Daniel with an absolutely straight face.

* * * * *

-38-

THE ISLAND OF
GALLIARD – THE GREAT EASTERN SEA

The inn was
called The
Rhian Inn
. It was a large building, it was
therefore moderately easy to keep to oneself if one so wished.

Chadwick
Smallhide did so wish.

Be there on the
third day of Dunthed his instructions had said and here he was.

“Yes Mr
Thirlbrick,” said the innkeeper, “your room has been reserved, it
is booked for two days, I was told it wasn’t certain just when you
would arrive, paid in advance.”

“Send a meal
up,” Chad ordered, “I must wash.”

“Your business
in Galliard sir? The law it is, I must keep the records.”

“Business.”

“Yes sir,
that’s understood but …”

“I wish to make
a purchase, I’m an agent.” Chad was good at thinking on his feet.
Why didn’t they warn me that questions would be asked?
“A
present for a wife I understand.”

“I see. Will
you be requiring the use of a strongbox Mr Thirlbrick?” asked the
innkeeper, assuming Chad was carrying coin with which to pay for
the jewellery.

“Ah yes,” Chad
answered, “that would be helpful.”

“Alternatively
we can keep it safe in the strong room, round the bell guard
guaranteed.”

“That won’t be
necessary, it’s a, it’s a promissory note.”

“New to here?
First time? One word of advice. The Cartel are not keen on
promissory notes, they prefer hard coin.”

“They’ll take
this one,” answered Chad.

“As you say
sir. Room thirty eight, top floor as requested and at the end of
the corridor, not as requested, but its got a nice view of the
sea.”

* * * * *

That night,
late, there was a knock at the door, four raps, silence then
another four.

“Who is it?
Chad demanded sotto voice, one hand on his dagger hilt.

“I’ve come with
the diamonds and the agates,” said the voice.

Chad relaxed,
the sentence was correct, exactly as per his memorised
instructions.

“I expected you
sooner,” he growled, opening the door and backing off.

“I was
delayed,” the man informed him, entering the room. He was followed
by another man. Chad flicked him a quick glance. He had not been
expecting two.

“By how many?”
Chad asked. This was the second security question.

“Seven.”

This was also
the correct answer and Chad breathed a sigh of relief as he sat
down by the table at the window. He thought the first man was the
same one who had hired him all those months ago but he couldn’t be
sure. The former had been clean shaven and this man was sporting a
luxurious beard. He was also wearing a hood which covered his
hair.

“You got the
coin?”

The second man
placed a heavy bag on the table in front of Chad, just out of reach
of his arm.

“The box?”
queried the first man.

“Over there on
the bed,” Chad replied, pointing but his gleaming eyes were on the
bag in front of him. At last, he was a very wealthy man.

“Count the coin
if that is your wish,” said the first man, stepping over to the bed
and bending over the box to examine it, “but I think you’ll find
all is in order. I counted it out myself.”

The second man
pushed the bag towards him and Chad opened it eagerly.

His eyes bulged
as he saw the mass of gold coin it contained. He dipped in his hand
to finger them.
Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. And all
mine
. He was gloating.

“Enough to keep
me in luxury the rest of my life and then some,” he murmured.

He felt the
blow as the cudgel came down on his head and knocked him
unconscious, a searing flash of blinding pain. He neither felt his
throat being cut nor saw his bright blood splash over the bag.

“Messy,” chided
Erik Halfarm, “now we’ll have to wash the blood off.”

* * * * *

-39-

PORT LUTTERELL
- ARGYLL

Tara
Josensdochter sat bolt upright in her bed and listened to the
chimes ringing the bell on the grandfather clock that sat in the
hall below.

One bell to
go
, she thought as she counted the chimes. She shivered,
despite clothes and bed coverings, still even now, only half
believing that in a bell’s time she would go to the garden gate and
be waiting for who, for what?

Her
conversation with Lyei? She was now only half sure that it had been
real, the other half positive it had been some sort of surreal
dream.

Adventure.
Is that why he persuaded me? Well, I’m going to do it. I’m going
and no-one is going to stop me. Like Thalia. Perhaps Lyei meant
that I should join the Vada, just like she did. Maybe it will be my
Lind who will be waiting for me at the gate. Perhaps no-lind or
no-one will come at all. Perhaps it
was
all a dream.

It was
difficult to judge the bell exactly but when she thought it might
be a quarter to the midnight one she pushed away her bedcovers,
swung her legs out over the bed-mattress and pushed her feet into
her boots.

Nothing
ventured, nothing gained.

She fumbled a
bit as her hands searched under her bed for her pack. Yes, there it
was, jacket on top. She dragged them out and put on the jacket, her
shaking fingers putting the toggles into the wrong holes.

Got to keep
quiet
, she reminded herself.

Tara tip-toed
down the stairs, avoiding the creaky fourth step. Her footfalls
sounded very loud in the night silence. Once she reached the bottom
of the stairs she exhaled her breath. She hadn’t even realised she
had been holding it in.

Now to get out
of the back door and into the garden, where, hopefully, her
assignee was waiting, or soon would be.

She
accomplished this part of her escape, closing the outer door behind
her with another very audible sigh of relief, then like a little
ethereal shadow she flitted down the garden path, towards the gate,
hoping, hoping.

Her hopes were
fulfilled. A large shadow was waiting under the trees on the other
side of the garden wall.

The gate she
opened with eager fingers and passed through. She didn’t bother to
shut it.

“Hello,” she
said to the waiting Lind in a faltering voice.

The shadow
moved towards her. What emerged under her fascinated stare was a
Lind, a very large, long-legged Lind.

“I am Dsya,
sister of Lyei and Vya,” the striped shape introduced herself. “I
am here to take you with me to Vada.”

* * * * *

AN INN EIGHTEEN
MILES TO THE WEST OF PORT LUTTERELL - ARGYLL

At the same
time that Tara Josensdochter scrambled up onto Dsya’s back, another
night-time excursion was about to begin.

In the loft
above the stables a boy was stuffing his meagre possessions into a
canvas bag then slipping his feet into a pair of boots only
slightly too large for him.

Jak had been
waiting for this night for a long time. He was twelve and a half
and had met Emmaya three years ago, when he had been a little boy
and living in the orphanage.