The Conqueror (7 page)

The warm golden lights of the town lay
below, and as yet, there was no alarm raised behind them. It would
seem that their ten minutes must be up by now.

The paper was a simple travel order,
ostensibly signed by Captain Nyron, who had gone off duty earlier.
It had been carefully forged for the eventuality. It was unusual
not to get a document properly stamped, as it really should have
gone on with the riders. It would take a while for them to figure
that out. In the meantime, as soon as the riders got to the bottom
of the castle’s approach road, they took the left fork, thundered
over the long stone bridge built at great expense decades
previously. Cantering through the cobbled streets, they came to an
intersection and headed for the northwest road, leading deeper into
the hinterlands. Their real destination was the coast and the
marshes.

The horses would be turned loose, to
run free and eventually, some might be caught and find new
masters.

Lowren was quiet when they slowed the
horses to a walk. Having circled back two hundred seventy degrees
from their original course, they had hours ahead of them. There was
time to think, and it was all he could do to hope.

A ship lying up there for just such a
purpose would take them away. Hopefully it would still be
there.

“
Do you feel
that?”

Lowren licked a finger tip and held it
up to the wind.

“
Southwest.”

There were nods and murmurs from the
riders. The moon was up, but for much of the time, the road lay
under trees. There was a sense of urgency and yet they must pick
their way carefully. So far, their maps and travel notes from their
spies had been fairly good.

The hours passed and the pain
began.

“
Dawn is not far off,
Sire.” Kann was slumping in the saddle.

Although his eyes were tired he was in
pretty good shape.

“
Yes. And with a bit of
luck—”

They might be home, or near enough as
made no difference, in two or three days of clear
sailing.

***

Dawn was breaking and the sky to the
east was a salmon-colored glow. They had her all ready to go,
having heard them coming for the last half mile or so.

They kept their voices low, but so far
the boat had remained undiscovered. With their minimal draft and
long, lean lines, the Lemni ships were ideal warships, although
limited as to cargo-carrying capacity. Run up in the reeds, her
shape obscured with rotten old fishing nets, her mast just one more
dead tree along the coastline.

“
Goodbye, oh, useless one.”
Garvin slapped the animal on the rump and it turned its head to
give him a loving look.

Bought for a couple of pieces, a
temporary acquisition only, the thing hadn’t eaten so well nor had
such an attentive rider in years. It stretched its neck forward for
one more pat on the nose.

“
Ah…go on with you.” Garvin
turned, and parted the reeds. “Find yourself a lady
friend.”

He crashed through the marsh, feet
buried in stinking black muck. He felt badly for the damned horse
for some reason, but it wasn’t his fault. He’d bought the thing a
few more months or even years of life. Otherwise it would have
ended up in the boneyard in pretty short order.

“
Come along, come
along.”

“
Yes, yes.” Encumbered with
the weight of sword and scabbard, his buckler on his shoulder,
keeping his bow and quiver well clear of the water was no easy
task.

He hit sand underfoot, which was a lot
harder at least, and then the side of the boat loomed above
him.

Willing hands relieved him of his
burden and Garvin felt strong hands grab his wrists.

“
Wait a minute.”

The hands let go and Garvin moved
further out to where the gunwales were lower to the
water.

He caught the edge and hauled himself
up. Bibbs was there to grab his belt, and with one final heave
Garvin was aboard, albeit half on his head.

“
Argh.”

“
Ah. Yes, you prefer the
land, don’t you.”

Bibbs stood there grinning.

Lowren leaned hard on the oar he had
set into the bottom.

“
Come on lads. All hands.”
Kann wasn’t one to be denied, and Garvin and Bibbs pulled oars from
their swiveling rests and moved as far back as they could. Pushing
hard, the men leaned into it, with the small crew of dedicated
sailors raising the boom and pushing on a few more oars.

The air seemed almost completely
still.

The ship let go with a
lurch.

“
Forwards, boys.” Lowren
kept pushing but as soon as the other three moved forwards, the bow
went down ever so slightly and she was finally free of the sand
under her stern.

A quick bit of footwork prevented him
from falling flat on his face as she went into the deeper
water.

“
Pull.” The quiet orders of
the captain floated on the grey and misty air.

The boom went up, the sail came down,
and then the captain scuttled the length of the ship. Oars were
dropped back into the swivels and all available hands dropped into
their benches. They began a comfortable stroke.

“
Steady.”

“
Aye, sir.”

Lowren grinned. What an incredible
moment, the captain and the helmsman quietly conferring, the first
brilliant sliver of the morning sun on the horizon, a good ship and
a dozen or so men that knew what they were doing. Boys went along,
tying off the corners of the sail, waiting to see how it took. The
breeze caught her and the boom swiveled slightly. She was making
way on her own.

It didn’t get much better than
this.

“
Lowren.”

“
Aye, captain?”

“
Have your men stow those
oars please, and you will find food and refreshments in the
locker.”

Lowren nodded.

He might be King, but a ship could only
have one master.

“
Aye, sir.” He nodded
happily as the bow began to go up and down and then came around to
the north as the helmsman leaned into his work.

They had escaped. The shore was still
and silent, only calls of birds to say there was land there at all.
They were halfway down a long shallow bay, sheltered from the wind
at first. The low hills to their rear dropped further away and the
bay widened out. The waves were bigger ahead, with just a hint of
spray coming off about every third one.

The ship heeled, the sail bellied out
and then the waves began to slap and splash over the bow on the
starboard quarter. A series of vee-shaped streamers of white foam
came off the bow as she shouldered the waves aside, and she had a
discernable wake now. Parts of the ship creaked and groaned, and a
sailor walked up and down, leaning carefully against her motion,
and studying the level in the port side bilges as the water sloshed
back and forth under the duckboards.

“
She looks good,
sir.”

The captain gave him a quick wave of
acknowledgement. He put his hand on the helmsman’s
shoulder.

“
Ten degrees to port,
please.”

“
Aye, sir. Ten degrees to
port, thank you.”

“
All righty, man, good
fellow, steady her up.”

She wasn’t rolling quite so hard now,
thought Lowren.

“
Aye, sir. Steady her up,
and thank you very much, sir.”

The captain was aware of Lowren
watching them.

“
To Lemnia we go, sire.
Three days hence, if the winds and the waves hold fair.” By the
captain’s reckoning, they might make it early on the evening of the
second day, but it was wise not to make too many promises when the
weather could turn at any moment.

If they had to row into a strong wind,
using all available hands, it could take a week, perhaps even
longer if a big storm came along and they had to run her
ashore.

“
Thank you, Captain Rollo.
And how did you find the wait?”

“
Boring and tedious, sire.
More than anything.” Days of nothing but suspense, and keeping a
sharp eye and voices low. “And how about you?”

“
I think we did very well,
to bring our message and come away again unscathed—or un-scourged.
Only time will tell.” There was nothing else to report,
apparently.

“
We came away with our
skins intact. That is the main thing, sire.”

It’s not like they needed, or even
wanted to know. Most were content just to live, and to serve, and
to have a place. It was more than some men had, after
all.

A quiet rumble of humor went through
the boys on overhearing this interplay. Even now, they were keeping
their voices down. The land was barely a mile away. The mouth of
the Great River was right there, a few miles off the port bow. It
was only a matter of time before sails loomed on the
horizon.

Being with the men was a kind of reward
in itself. There were times when it was possible to forget his
position, to just be one of them, and Lowren treasured those
moments. He stood, hand on the gunwale, and then sank, surprisingly
tired all of a sudden, onto one of the rowing benches beside
him.

The land, still dark under those trees,
was silent and inscrutable behind them. The marsh was perfect
cover, although you couldn’t use it too often. Unsuitable for
farming or grazing, too wet for commercially-valuable trees to
grow, it was a refuge for felons, escaped slaves, and the
occasional poacher. Smugglers would know of such places, and they
were lucky that none had come along at an inopportune time. Since
neither party would want to draw attention to itself, the results
of such a meeting would be incalculable. It would mostly depend on
whether the other party felt itself stronger or weaker, thought
Lowren—and that had been all they had to go on. They would be
thieves, pirates and smugglers after all.

The captain and crew of the
good ship
Cygnus
hadn’t seen anyone in the three days they had been there. The
creek wasn’t navigable, and the mouth was obscured by bulrushes and
waterweeds.

Yet it was only three miles from the
mouth of the Great River and barely twelve or thirteen miles from
the capital city.

Lowren wondered if Eleanora had sent
troops after them—if so, there hadn’t been any signs of it. Leaving
the castle, the party had galloped off by the northwest road, then
after going through the town, they had circled through the hills
and farm fields, and then headed southeast to the coast.

He would hear more about that later
from certain resources in place at her court and in the town
itself.

Spying on even your most
friendly neighbors was nothing new, and he must assume she knew
something about his kingdom as well. Any number of magicians,
merchants, peddlers, musicians and dancers traveled back and forth.
Ships of both nations traded far up and down the coast. Aside from
their cargos and their trade, the news and talk they brought from
afar was worth its weight in gold. For a few pieces, they might
take extra special care in using their eyes, ears and
noses—sometimes serving more than one distant master. This often
worked out pretty well for all concerned, although it was a fine
balancing act for the
asset
in question.

Typical for them, Garvin and Bibbs had
dragged a spare sail and some canvas covers out onto the duckboards
ahead of the mast. After their long night in the saddle, the
tension of their slightly-ambiguous position in the castle, and the
sheer physical exhaustion of the last few days, they had one thing
on their mind and that was sleep.

“
Sails on the horizon,
sir.”

“
Yes. Thank
you.”

Chapter Five

It was a Council-of-War in everything
but name. Some of her ministers hadn’t been in the same room
together for quite some time. Quiet reigned here, surrounded by
heavily-framed walnut panels, and the tall windows that let in a
bit of light even on the darkest winter days.

Weeks or even months had passed since
the last big crisis.

What had seemed important enough at the
time, had faded into insignificance. But this was
different.

Nobles who had laughed and politely
applauded at the presentation of Lowren, the barbarian king, were
at a total loss as to how to react, and so they reacted
badly.

“
This is an outrage.”
Hermoslaus was her Attorney General.

Having been badly shamed by the Lowren
incident, including the hijacking by subterfuge of his shipment of
prisoners, Hermoslaus was all for declaring war—on the Lemni. While
she was sure it was more for show than anything, it took some time
to sooth his ruffled feathers. Taez was somewhere off in the wings
awaiting his fate as well.

Let him wait, she decided. When in
doubt, do nothing—let him wait for a long time.