Our Lady of the Islands (42 page)

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Authors: Shannon Page,Jay Lake

BOOK: Our Lady of the Islands
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“But Captain,” Kyrios said, pale and disbelieving. “To draw them east, we’d be sailing straight into the islands. Through the city’s very heart.”

“That’s right.”

Kyrios held up the charts he had been studying, as if Reikos might not understand what they foretold. “The channels aren’t deep or wide enough between them. We’d just run aground.”

Reikos nodded, already too lost in grief for his beautiful ship to attempt speech.

“How would that serve anyone, sir?” Kyrios asked desperately.

Reikos drew a long, deep breath. “That would depend on how long we could draw them off before we ran aground, I suppose. If we bought them time to get ashore, then we would not have sacrificed my ship in vain.”

“Sir … you can’t be serious. Are you?”

“Never more, I fear,” Reikos said quietly. He looked back toward the firelit island. “Though we’d likely have outrun their ships the other way, there was never any surety that we’d have outrun all their cannon balls.” He turned back to Kyrios, committed now, inside and out. “If they’re going to sink us, better in shallow water with land close by on either side to swim to, eh? Than well out to sea where there’s nothing for us to do but drown.” He gave his first mate a companionable slap on the arm. “If we do manage to help the Factor and Factora-Consort win this fight, I’m sure she’ll buy me another ship. Almost as nice,” he added, with a catch in his throat. “Better go down and explain our new objective to the crew, I guess. I can count on you to help convince them, I hope?”

Kyrios looked at him with, to Reikos’s consternation, the gleam of unshed tears in his eyes. “It’s been an honor serving with you, Captain. All these years. I’ve no intention of abandoning you now.”

“Don’t start speaking of us in the past tense that way, will you?” Reikos dragged a pale grin from somewhere inside. “It’ll just spook the others.”

Is my Viktor really dead? Can this be true?
The question circled endlessly, vanishing into the murky waters of Arian’s mind, only to resurface moments later. If he was … it was her fault. Or was it? Could this have been avoided? Or was it all but started anyway before she’d even left the Factorate to free Sian? Arian could not imagine her husband dead. However pessimistic he had seemed at times, he had been too much alive last time she’d seen him. Only days ago.

Only days ago this war had seemed no more than an academic possibility to her. Only weeks ago they’d had no greater worries than the vicissitudes of Alizar’s economic turmoil, and deflecting some inconvenient trade delegation from Copper Downs. Or so it had seemed.

And Konrad’s illness, of course. Was her son, at least, still living? Where was he now? Not still lying in their burning house, surely. Where would they have taken him? And who would
they
have been? Was Lucia with him still? Was she even alive — or Maronne? What of her poor repentant brother, Aros? Was anyone she’d cared for here still living? She wondered if Viktor’s pernicious cousin was happy with where his self-serving schemes had brought them all, or whether he too was hiding somewhere now, wishing as desperately as Arian did that he could take so many blunders back and wake up from this nightmare.

“Arian,” Sian whispered, peeping through a crack between the gunwale and their tarp, “is that not another of Viktor’s ships? I think … yes! It flies the banner of House Alkattha!”

“As do any ships Escotte has hired, I’m sure,” said Arian, unable to prevent herself from raining pessimism even on Sian. “I’m sorry. That was …”

Sian shook her head. “I understand. This waiting … is not easy.”

No,
thought Arian.
It leaves too much time for thought.

Rationally, she knew that they could not have been here for much more than half an hour, but it seemed they’d waited half the night. Was the captain still coming? She hoped, almost, that he was not; that something had prevented him from even leaving port on Cutter’s. That she might yet avoid having his death and those of his crew on her conscience as well by morning.

“I see at least a few ships flying Factorate flags,” Sian pressed. “If they’re still fighting, then … we cannot have lost yet, can we?”

Perhaps not,
thought Arian,
if they haven’t just been captured or stolen during battle, and our flags left flying just to catch other members of my husband’s fleet off guard
. She managed to keep her mouth shut this time, anyway. Was this what it had been like for Viktor, she wondered, drowning in despair while she had badgered him to be less pessimistic? “I’ve seen half a dozen all too recognizable warships tonight,” Arian sighed. “I ordered them equipped with cannon myself, hardly more than a week ago, for that ridiculous parade to beard Duon in his own den.” A wretched little laugh escaped her. “I can hope, I guess, that they’re still under the command of captains loyal to my husband’s government.”

“My ladies!” Pino’s urgent voice came muffled through the tarp. “I see him! Reikos is coming — fast!”

Heedless of the risk, Arian reached up to shove their tarp aside and stuck her head up. “Where is he?”

“My lady,” Pino said, “please, stay hidden until —”

“No!” She had to see. Had to watch — praying that Reikos would realize the futility of what she’d asked of him, and turn around. “Please, I …”

“There, my lady,” Pino said, abashed. He pointed into the darkness north of them, where it still took some time for her to find and recognize the hulking silhouette of his darkened ship. Heading straight at them, it seemed.

“I cannot see him,” Sian murmured beside her.

“There,” said Arian, just as lamps bloomed suddenly at the ship’s prow. One, then three, then many more, lighting up … a figure, waving from the deck. No, shaking its fist. Long, pale hair and flowing lengths of amethyst silk lifted on the wind. Arian groaned and hid her eyes. “All my fault,” she whispered.

“None of it,” said Sian. “Escotte is to blame for this, and whoever put him up to it. If anybody did. I can see now that his greed alone may have been sufficient to cause all this.”

Arian shook her head, not remotely willing to let herself off so easily. “They all warned me —”

“That you mustn’t try to save your son. I know,” Sian cut her off. “But if I wasn’t given this terrible gift to heal Konrad, then why was I made to suffer it? And if a god cares enough to save your son, how could you have been wrong to care as well?”

Arian had once believed there were no gods in Alizar, then thought Sian’s new god might save her son. Now she only wondered how they’d all allowed themselves to read whatever they most wished for in the tea leaves of this catastrophe. Even if there
was
some new god in Alizar again, how had she imagined that a deity her husband had ordered
butchered
might re-order the world just to help them save their son, much less their little kingdom? Why should a god care for any tiny clot of islands, much less three miniscule lives on one small hilltop?

“My ladies, we must make ready to sail now,” Pino pled. “As soon as Reikos draws these ships away, we must start for shore. It will be very important then that you are not seen.
Please
.”

“I’m sorry,” Arian said, knowing he would not suspect how deeply or for how much. “And Pino, please, do not endanger yourself either, if it can be helped at all.” She and Sian ducked down again and pulled the tarp back into place above them, leaving a gap to see through.

Reikos’s ship was fully lit now. Like a ballroom on the night of someone’s coronation. Not one, but two fair sketches of the Factorate’s banner had been raised upon its masts as well. Arian had not realized how close they were when they had been a shadow still. She glanced again at the ridiculous figure she had called for at its prow, then looked back at the harbor, realizing what felt wrong.

“He’ll draw them here!” she hissed to Sian. “When he turns out to sea, the chase will bring all those other boats right past us! He must not realize where we are! Pino!” she shouted, “Pino, can you wave a light, or something? He must see us and change direction or we’re —”

“My lady, no!” begged Pino. “They will see us too! On shore! You must stay down!”

“But don’t you see? He’s —” She glanced back at the looming ship, and fell silent, unable to make sense of what she saw. “What’s he doing?” she gasped. “Why is he turning
east
?”

Sian put a hand to her mouth. “There is no escape for him that way!”

“My lady …” Pino said, staring at
Fair Passage
in equal dismay as it thundered past them at full speed, not five hundred feet off their port side, “the other boats have seen him too. They are moving … away from us, but …” His eyes grew round. “
Hang on!
” he shouted as the great ship’s foaming wake crashed toward them. Seconds later, the port side of their little boat was shoved into the air as Arian and Sian cried out and grabbed for any purchase they could find. Just as it seemed the boat would roll, the port side fell away again, more violently than it had risen, and the starboard side heaved up to roll them in the opposite direction, as water poured across the gunwales. There was barely time to gasp and grab once more at the sloop’s bare ribs before the port side rose again, though not as swiftly or as far, followed by the starboard side, and then, as suddenly, the little craft grew still, bobbing quietly, as if to catch its breath.


Blackblood’s balls!
” Pino gasped, unwrapping his arms from around the mast, and climbing to his feet again. “Did he not see us here, or —”

Whatever else he might have said was drowned out by a deafening roar as
Fair Passage
fired all its cannons at the passing shoreline, running due east now, without seeming to have slowed at all. As if the sound itself had torn them free, boats of every size and apparent faction began turning on the wind to follow Reikos toward the island channel.

“Now!” Pino shouted, yanking on the main sheet and the tiller simultaneously. “Get below the tarp, my ladies, and stay hidden ’til I call you out!” As Arian and Sian scrambled through six inches of standing water to gather the now-sopping tarp and drag it back across themselves, the sloop’s luffing sails snapped taut, causing the boat to heel sharply as it started speeding toward the coast. Arian let out a yelp, stumbling into Sian again, and bringing both of them into a splashing tangle on the deck.

“Just stay down! Forget the tarp!” called Pino, his eyes riveted ahead of them. “Lean against the windward side! I’ve got to point her hard if we’re to reach the shore before they all start running out of water and turn back! I need ballast portside!”

“Here!” Sian called out to Arian as she scurried to press herself against the portside gunwale. “Help me weigh the boat against the wind!”

“I know,” said Arian, feeling embarrassed at her helpless behavior. “I’m married to a shipping magnate, after all.”
Or, I was, at least
, she thought.
Oh Viktor, please, please don’t be dead. Or Konrad either. I’m coming now, my loves. I’m finally coming home.

“All right, boys,” Reikos called down from his place at the helm, “let’s go wreck my ship! Are the cannon ready, Molian?”

“Aye, sir! Powder only, as you ordered, sir, with shot and shrapnel standing ready.”

“Thank you!” Reikos had seen no point in wasting good ordnance until they knew who or what actually needed shooting at. As they doubtless would at any moment now. “On my signal then!” He saw Pino’s little boat coming up to starboard and hoped the boy would think to turn into his wake. With apologies, either way, he needed to leave himself as much room portside as he could for this doubtless already too-brief little chase.

“Stand ready!” he shouted to his crew. “Coming 30 degrees to port!”

He cranked the wheel hard, his tiny crew scrambling to re-trim so many sails as
Fair Passage
veered east just in time to avoid both Pino’s craft and two of the half-submerged wrecks already littering Home’s chaotic waterfront. “Kyrios! This’ll likely be their only good look! Make them believe you!”

In his pool of lamplight at the prow, Kyrios rushed the starboard rail, shouting in falsetto and shaking his fists higher than ever at a cluster of gunboats flying the Orlon family crest. Rumors had been rife back at port on Cutter’s that House Orlon had sided with the usurpers.

Having traded luxury goods for many years in Alizar, Reikos and his men knew who the islands’ leading families were — and all their house devices at sight. A quick sweep of the shoreline made it plain that everyone had shown up for this party. In addition to a few Factorate ships, and a handful flying Alkattha colors — which might be the Factor’s, or might be the Census Taker’s, he realized — Reikos saw banners aloft for Houses Orlan, Sark, Suba-Tien, Colara, Phaero, and half a dozen others. Almost certainly
Fair Passage
would have friends as well as foes somewhere in this tangle. But, with the exception of those Factorate boats, and possibly those of House Orlon, he had no way of guessing — yet — who fought for which side here. Another reason to load only powder at this point.

“Ready cannons!” Reikos shouted as
Fair Passage
came broadside to the waterfront, still moving at a frightening speed. “Fire!”

The roar set his teeth rattling, but he felt sure that anyone distracted from their passage must be paying attention now. “Kyrios! You’re done! Get up here, and man these charts!”

At the prow, his first mate gathered up his skirts and came running for the helm.

“Here they come, Captain!” shouted Dannos. “All of them, I think — gods help us!”

“Man your posts and pay attention to your work!” Reikos shouted down. “Molian, you and Eagent get those cannons loaded up again — with shot this time! But move’em sternward first! That’s where we’ll need to fire’em from now on!”

“Aye, aye!” Molian scrambled down the hatch to where Eagent was likely already at work on this very task.

“Sellas, get those jib sails trimmed!”

“Aye, Captain!” Sellas ran forward from the main mast where he’d been helping Jak.

“Dolous!” Reikos shouted to his seventh man, beneath the mizzen mast, struggling, like everyone else, with too many sheets at once. “We’re on a reach now, not a tack!”

“Sorry, Captain!” Dolous called, rushing to correct the mizzen’s top gallant sail.

They had already lost a lot of speed coming through the turn, which was good in one sense, as they were rushing toward their doom, but not so good in another. Reikos glanced back to find at least five well-armed craft already pulling ahead of the pack behind them.

Kyrios arrived at last, breathing hard, and grabbed up one of the charts clipped to the binnacle box. “The deepest channel’s over there, sir.” He thrust an arm out forty-five degrees to port. “But it won’t take us much past the bridge to Apricot.” His eyes raced up and down the parchment. “There’s another, ten degrees starboard, that’ll bring us to the bridge at a rough angle; but once we’re under, it grows deeper as the other channel fails.”

“Just what I wanted,” Reikos growled, turning the wheel. “Sailing closer to shore.”

Kyrios pointed ahead. “When we’ve come abreast of that burning wharf up there, resume your previous heading, and maintain your distance. That should keep us in the channel.”

The boom of cannons came from well behind them, causing them both to turn.

Three great jets of water leapt into the air too far off their stern to matter much. Yet.

“One of Orlon’s.” Reikos shook his head, watching the roil of gunsmoke drift away behind their attacker. “Not just a rumor then.”

“Traitorous bastard,” Kyrios muttered, returning to his charts.

“Well, that’s two less cannon balls to worry about.” Reikos turned forward to peruse the course ahead of them. “Let’s hope the vessel’s captain is an impatient man who doesn’t want to wait ’til we’re in range to keep on firing.”

“Here, sir. Ten degrees port, and we should be fine until we reach the bridge.”

As Reikos turned the wheel, he glanced down at Jak, who was just tying things off beside the main mast. “Jak! Go get a saw, then climb up and cut halfway through the main mast, just below the gallant! Only
halfway!
Got that? And from the front — mind you — not the back!”

“Aye …?” the man called, looking confused. “The
mast
, Captain?”

“Now, man! Do it before I need you down here trimming sail again!”

“Aye!” He went running to the carpentry locker.

“May I ask what you’re doing, sir?” Kyrios inquired. “If the gallant falls, it’ll take out gods know how much other rigging — which it does seem we could use just now.”

“The solid half’ll hold against one sail in airs like these,” said Reikos. “I’m
nearly
certain the bridge to Apricot is high enough to let us under; but if we’re lucky enough to reach any of the others, I’d rather lose the top of my main mast than the whole thing. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Aye, Captain. I suppose I would.”

“If there’s time, I’ll send him up to shave the mizzen as well.”

Kyrios gazed up at the sails, then out across the darkened channel at the distant bridge to Apricot. “So we’re truly going to wreck her?” he asked, as if still unable to believe it.

“I think that’s a given at this point, old friend. Let’s see how far we can take her first though, shall we? What do those charts say? Should we just go ’round Home toward Shingle Beach, or keep on between Montchattaran and Viel?”

“The channel between Home and Viel is wider, Captain, but too shallow. If the sea were just a little lower, they’d be a single island at low tide. We’ll have to try our luck north of Viel — if we manage to get even half that far.”

Reikos nodded. “And north of Viel even the main bridge is a good deal lower than Apricot’s. I wonder how many of our followers ride low enough to fare any better than ourselves. Look back and tell me who we’ve got there.”

Kyrios turned to gaze behind them. “Out in front, there’s Orlon’s two, of course. The big one that fired on us will be out of luck as soon as we are, likely. Might be why he’s so impatient to be firing. The smaller one may get farther, and it’s more maneuverable. That’ll be a problem. Right behind him looks to be one of Colara’s — heavily armed, it looks from here, but also too big to be trouble for us long if we can manage not to run aground too soon … Behind them, I see two ships flying House Phaero’s flag. His and hers, you think?”

Reikos grinned darkly. Lord and Lady Phaero were contentious siblings, their twin estates crowded onto one small island.

“They’re small enough to make it quite a ways, perhaps,” Kyrios continued. “Good or bad for us, depending on who they serve at present. Well back of those, I see two Factorate ships, and one Alkattha banner, I believe.”

“Damn shame they were all so far west when we came through,” Reikos said. “We sure could’ve used’em up here between us and all these others.”

“Aye, Captain. If wishes were dingies, as they say … Well off to port back there, we’ve also got what seems a bunch of fishing boats with light guns tacked to their backs — all flying banners of House Sark, if I am not mistaken. Nimble as wasps, I wager. If they can catch us at all, and dare to risk our superior guns and height, they could cause us real trouble. Not that the bottom still isn’t likelier to take us down first.” He raised a hand to block the glare of firelight from shore. “I see one of Suba-Tien’s trading clippers too, trailing quite a ways behind the rest. Can’t tell from here if they’re even armed, but I doubt they’ll make it even this far anyway.”

Reikos shook his head. “As in business, so in war, eh? Lady Suba-Tien does like to play things close to her vest. I wonder which side she’s come down on — or if she’s just here to straddle the plank and keep score. What about the shoreline? Are there troops following us as well, or is it only boats we’ve drawn away from Pino?”

Kyrios turned to peer into the firelight. “It’s hard to tell, Captain. There’s too much commotion in the streets, but the swarm does seem to flow this way a bit. Either way, Pino should be able to get ashore without being shot out of the water now.” He turned to look back at the craft pursuing them, and frowned. “Speaking of which, Orlon’s and Colara’s gunboats have both gathered quite a bit of speed. Looks like a race to see who ends us first.”

The words had barely passed his lips when a second volley of cannon fire made Reikos duck and spin around to see if this would be all the further they got. To his amazement, it was not his ship from which the crash and crackle of splintering wood issued. As clouds of smoke billowed just starboard of Colara’s gunboat, Orlon’s foremost ship shuddered and swayed as a gout of dust and shrapnel boiled from the sudden gaping hole in its port side. Seconds later, its main mast cracked audibly and slumped over. Though it didn’t fall completely, a portion of the deck around it seemed to collapse. Reikos could hear the uproar of frightened shouts and screams across the distance as the ship began to lean, and fell swiftly away behind them.

“And now we know who at least one of our friends is.” Reikos grinned, washed with relief, however ill-founded. One friendly gunboat wasn’t likely to get them out of these straits, but with all the Factorate ships he could have counted on so far behind, it was a great encouragement. “If only we had the real Factora-Consort on board, I could just haul over and hand her off to Colara’s men right now. We might even make it out of here.”

“You think they’d notice if you gave them me, then?” Kyrios batted his eyes at Reikos.

“I think they’d sink us on the spot. Please don’t do that with your eyes again. Things are frightening enough here.” Reikos turned to peer ahead. The bridge to Apricot loomed closer in the darkness, pale and gracefully attenuated. Among the first built of Alizar’s modern bridges, it had been styled by its grandiose designers to resemble the ancient ruins scattered so mysteriously throughout the island chain. They’d built it high enough to allow for some degree of maritime traffic back and forth between the inner city and the open sea — though nothing as large as
Fair Passage
, of course. As Kyrios kept pointing out, channel depths had been left shallow around the city’s core — for good reason. Reikos was pretty sure
Fair Passage
would fit under it, however. Almost certain … Looking upward, he saw Jak already up the main mast, busy with the saw. “No time to shave the mizzen mast, I guess. But if I have to lose one, it’s the better choice.”

Coppersmith
fairly bounced across the bay’s light chop now, leaning hard to starboard as they raced for shore. They had achieved a sort of balance, all leaning out against the portside gunwales, and Sian’s ability to think beyond the instant was returning.

“I apologize,” said Pino. “I should have turned the boat into that wake, but I was so surprised to see him … go that way. I didn’t think in time.”

They all turned to stare at the astonishing flotilla behind them, still heading east into the city center where no vessels of such size could hope to sail safely, if at all.

“Why did he
do
this?” Sian asked.

“To save us, I’m afraid,” Arian answered bleakly. “From drawing all those boats our way instead. What he means to do about it now, though, is beyond me.”

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