Dark Empress (57 page)

“Full stop!” he bellowed at the crew. The oarsmen, taken by surprise, took a moment to sort themselves out, but very quickly the Empress slowed to a halt, just beyond the small boat. Its four occupants rowed as fast as they could to catch up with the pirate vessel.

“This had better be important” the big man grumbled to his commander. “Those four ships are way out ahead of us now.”

Ghassan smiled.

“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised shortly, Ursa.”

The big man looked down at the four new arrivals who were beginning to climb the rope ladder at the side. Three men and a woman, all dressed in low-class utilitarian clothes and all dark grey and black.

“Who the hell are these people?”

Again Ghassan turned his smile to his second in command.

“My brother has the honour of knowing a great number of people in low places in the port of M’Dahz. I persuaded a few of them to rise above the waterline for an hour or two, in return for the promise of considerable recompense.”

“They’re port dogs? Some of them have morals that would make an executioner blush!”

Ghassan nodded.

“But they have their uses, Ursa. We will be giving them passage out of the port for now and putting them ashore once again when we meet up with my brother.”

“If we meet up with your brother!”

That grin was starting to get on Ursa’s nerves. Something about the tall officer’s face actually managed to make his enigmatic smile even more irritating than captain Samir’s. As he grumbled under his breath, the last of the four dishevelled villains from M’Dahz climbed aboard.

“Get underway as fast as we can, mister Ursa. Still just the oars, though. Make for the harbour entrance…”

Ursa shook his head.

“Look sir. The navy are already there. They only have to manoeuvre into position and they can pull us to pieces.”

“Yes,” Ghassan grinned “that could well have been the case. However, you will find in a moment that it actually isn’t. As soon as we’re at the harbour entrance I want hard a-port. Swing round and follow the coast west. As soon as we’re out of harbour and in open sea and making for Pelasian waters you can unfurl as many sails as you like, but until then I want the tight manoeuvrability of oars alone. Your port turn might have to be the sharpest you’ll ever make.”

Ursa narrowed his eyes.

“It would help us poor mortals if you and your brother occasionally shared your plans with the rest of us.”

“And spoil the surprise? Watch and learn, Ursa.”

The Dark Empress cut through the waves, bearing down on the entrance to the harbour where the four imperial ships in tight formation had just arrived. From his position, following them, Ursa was surprised to hear sudden cries of alarm from the vessels ahead.

“What’s happening?” he asked, of no one in particular.

Frowning and squinting into the distance, he watched the ships which, having begun to bank for positioning to blockade the Empress in, suddenly started jerking wildly around, two even colliding lightly as they continued on a roughly straight course, heading directly out to sea. There was a desperate commotion and the four ships were suddenly trying to sort themselves out and reverse their oars.

“What did you do?” he asked, turning to his temporary captain.

Ghassan smiled.

“Our four friends here have spent the last hour or two emulating what Asima did to my ship before you attacked us. These captains had no reason to bank until they reached the open sea, since they were facing the entrance while in dock. As soon as they got there ahead of us, they hauled on the rudders to turn and discovered that some villainous scoundrel has sawn most of the way through them. If you listened you could hear the cracks as they gave way and left them with no way to maneuvre.”

His smile widened.

“They’ll get back on track with steering oars, just like we did, but you’ll remember the disadvantage that put us at. And, of course, because they’re facing directly away from us, they can’t fire their artillery without taking out their own masts.

Ursa shook his head as he grinned.

“You’re a clever bastard, sir… a mad one, but a clever one!”

“I hope your oarsmen are as good as they think. You’ve only got a small space there to take us to port without colliding with those ships.”

Ursa squared his shoulders.

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem, sir.”

Ghassan nodded as the heavy man ran off to issue the orders. Brushing that stray lock of black curly hair out of his eyes, he watched the havoc aboard the four daram as they desperately tried to manoeuvre. The Empress would be a dot on the horizon before they even made it back to the dock for an emergency refit.

“Alright, Samir. I’ve done my bit. Now let’s see what you’ve been up to.”

In which a full reunion occurs

Samir nudged the teamster, who woke with a start.

“Smnff?”

“There’s a sail. I think it’s the Empress, but I want to be sure before I give the signal. What do you think?”

The man squinted off across the dark waves from their small and cold camp by the water’s edge. They had arrived at the village of Khediv around an hour ago and rode on along the beach until they were safely a quarter of a mile from civilisation. Even then, Samir had refused to allow them a fire for warmth or food, in case they were spotted by the wrong people. The carriage driver sat awake in his seat, guarding the vehicle and its slumbering occupant.

“It’s too big for a merchant ship and not flying military pennants, so if it’s not your ship, it’s another pirate.”

Samir nodded, satisfied, and finally retrieved his flint and steel, striking sparks on the dry straw, leaves and sticks until they caught and roared into life with an orange light that cast eerie shadows around the small camp.

Samir watched the ship out to sea as it gradually closed with the coast and nodded to himself once more as the Empress came to a stop just within safe depth and a lifeboat was lowered.

“Almost time to part ways, my friend.”

The teamster gave him a grin and raised an eyebrow. Samir looked down to see the man’s hand out open.

“Yes, I remember the arrangement. You’ll have to hang on until the others get here, though.”

As they waited, Samir strode over to the carriage and peered in through a crack in the curtains. He’d been doing so every ten minutes or so since they arrived, never entirely convinced that Asima would still be there the next time. He could have tied her, but would rather not have to. There she was, still slumped in the seat, fast asleep and believing herself on the way to Pelasia once again.

Samir smiled as he returned to the waterfront. The lifeboat was almost here now and Samir frowned as he realised there were six people in the vessel. Surely Ghassan hadn’t brought an honour guard from the ship or some such rubbish.

He heaved a sigh of relief as the six occupants came into clearer view: Ghassan and Ursa were accompanied by four of the more resourceful but less reputable people he employed from time to time in port. The boat arrived at the gravel beach with a crunch and Ghassan stepped out. Samir smiled at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You’ve been using my contacts?”

“I used your name in the ‘mermaid’, yes brother. I had a little job I needed doing before we could saunter off to meet you.”

One of the four, a short, dark and badly-shaven man flashed a dangerous look at Samir.

“Your friend here offered us forty corona apiece and I’d hate to find out I’ve been stiffed, Samir…”

Samir laughed lightly.

“Hardly, Grim.” He turned to Ursa.

“You brought my bag?”

With a nod, the big pirate retrieved a waterproof sack from the boat and handed it over. Samir dropped it to the floor with a crunch and delved within, removing a bag of coins. Opening it, he began to count out large, gold discs and proffered them to the man.

“I’m afraid I’m rather low on corona at the moment, but I do have these sols, minted in Germalla. I believe the general exchange rate is around eight corona to a sol, so if I give you, say six sol apiece, the extra should make up for the inconvenience of having to change the currency, yes?”

The man glared at Samir and the captain shrugged.

“Bearing in mind that I’m in M’Dahz semi-regularly and you’ll have plenty of opportunities to tell me if you have problems…”

“Seven apiece” the man said flatly.

“You drive a hard bargain, Grim. Still, you have me currently at a disadvantage. Seven it is, but I shall expect preferential rates the next time we do business.”

As the others reached out to collect their payment, Samir doled out the coins with a smile.

“I presume I can leave you all here to work out the details of the return journey to the town? You have carriage, cart and plenty of horses.”

As they nodded and examined their coins, biting the gold to test its authenticity, Samir grasped Ghassan by the shoulder and walked him away from the crowd toward the carriage. The driver nodded respectfully down at him and reached out to take the coins the pirate captain proffered. As the exchange took place quietly, Samir leaned closer to his brother conspiratorially and whispered.

“Have a quick look inside.”

Ghassan frowned and, leaning across to the wagon, pulled aside the drape a little to peer into the darkness within. He blinked and then checked again to be sure his eyes did not deceive him.

“What are you doing, Samir?”

There was a groan from within.

“Now you’ve gone and woken her, Ghassan. Still, it’s time she was up.”

Ghassan grasped Samir by the collar and pulled him close as the sounds of stirring came from within the coach.

“She cannot be trusted. She tried to kill me, Samir. She’s sold us out more than once. She values nothing but her own comfort and power, and we were about to be rid of her, probably for good.”

Samir nodded.

“That’s all certainly true, Ghassan, but you’re the one who’s always going on about duty and what’s right. Do you think for a minute that we’d be doing the right thing sending her back to Pelasia so she can plot the downfall of King Ashar?”

Ghassan frowned as his brother went on.

“Pelasia’s been nothing but trouble for the last two decades and now, at last, there’s a good, reasonable, educated man on their throne; a man who wants to tighten ties with the empire. He’s the man who exiled Asima and, I gather, dislikes her intensely. Given that Asima knifed one of her oldest friends just because you were in her way, what do you think she has planned for the King of Pelasia?”

“But she couldn’t…”

“She could, Ghassan. And she will if someone doesn’t stop her. I asked her why she was going back and she told me flat that it was ambition and revenge.”

Ghassan continued to shake his head.

“She’s a wild animal, Ghassan” Samir said, shaking his head sadly “and while I won’t put her down, she needs to be tamed.”

“I’m a what?”

They both looked round to see Asima’s face at the carriage window.

Samir beamed at her.

“Ah, the wildcat is awake. Good morning, Asima.”

The door burst open and their captive dropped heavily from of the vehicle, striding across the ground angrily to the brothers.

“What is the meaning of this, Samir?”

The pirate captain treated her to a warm smile.

“I’ve been selfish, Asima… very selfish. Now it’s time to think of others for a change… people other than you. Time to give the world a breather and remove you from the game for a while.”

Ghassan shook his head.

“So that’s the plan? We take her on board and flee? I presume there’s more to your scheme than this?”

Samir nodded.

“Oh, far more, Ghassan. And, Asima? Bear in mind that despite everything you see, what I am doing is as much for your own good as everyone else’s; possibly more so.”

Asima folded her arms defiantly.

“Is that so? Kidnapping me for my own good?”

Samir nodded.

“At some time since we were children, you came to a fork in the road and went down the wrong one and it’s turned you into this. But the nice thing about roads is that you can walk down them both ways, even back to that fork so that you can go the right way this time.”

Asima blinked. Twice in a day she’d been told much the same thing, by both her oldest friend and that witch in the rags. Why was everyone so damn perceptive these days? Casting the blackest look she could muster at the brothers, she turned to the small, wiry man in black.