The Twisted lurched again, surging up the slope of an oncoming swell. When the vessel took the white-capped crest Cartheron scanned the northern horizon and cursed – he’d caught a glimpse of blue sail.
‘As long as you can!’ he yelled to Hawl, hoping she could hear him through her concentration.
‘Due south,’ he told Brendan.
‘Aye, aye.’
Jack came to Cartheron’s side; the young man was rubbing a chin that to Cartheron looked new to stubble. ‘What is it?’ Cartheron asked.
‘That troop carrier is no deep-water vessel … and she’s low in the water…’
Cartheron nodded. ‘’S true.’
‘She may wallow in these high seas.’
Cartheron snorted. ‘So might we.’
‘Regardless, perhaps we should lead them onwards.’ He offered up a smile that was almost sly. ‘Perhaps it’s time for a run to Genabackis…’
Cartheron laughed and slapped him on the back. ‘Remind me not to try to match strategies with you, Jack.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ll think about it. But let’s just try to lose them first.’
The youth touched his brow in a half-salute and ducked away. Cartheron watched him go. Jack – too bland a name for a smart fellow like that. Have to come up with something better.
He stood with Brendan, ready to lend a hand at the tiller as the Twisted clawed its way up monstrous swells, pitched forward, then slid down precipitous slopes as long as hillsides. The water took on an iron-grey darkness and the spray bit his face like daggers of ice.
‘Strait o’ Storms dead ahead,’ Brendan muttered in low warning.
‘I know,’ he answered, just as low. ‘I know.’
‘Would rather take on our Napan friend back there.’
Cartheron nodded his agreement. When they broached a crest he searched the waves behind again and this time saw no sign of the Just Cause against the vast expanse of angry foam-webbed waters. Had they given up the chase?
Glancing ahead, he felt a chill take him as he glimpsed a line of darkness against the southerly horizon. Lightning flashes lit it from below like the fitful fires of a siege army. The Strait of Storms – home of the daemon Riders who haunted its frigid waters.
‘Easterly, sailing master,’ he murmured to Brendan.
‘Aye, aye,’ the old sailor answered with undisguised relief.
He now looked to Hawl; he’d go to her, perhaps take her hand to offer any help he could, but he had no wish to distract her. She was still upright in any case, her arms still outstretched, hands clawing the air.
Choss, who had been overseeing the repairs at the bows, now came to Cartheron’s side. Leaning close he set his mouth to Cartheron’s ear and and whispered, ‘Ice glaze on the bowsprit.’
‘Easterly, please, Brendan,’ Cartheron warned.
‘She’s slow to come round, isn’t she?’ the man answered through clenched lips.
Cartheron studied the winds. Damn if they weren’t against them for an easterly course. They’d have to claw for every league.
He now wondered whether he’d just traded a leap into the Abyss for Hood’s bony hand.
‘Keep an eye on it,’ he told Choss. ‘Have the crew strike it off as it thickens.’
The burly officer nodded, his face grim. ‘Been a long time since we’ve dared tempt the Stormriders…’
‘Just sneaking past, old friend. Sneakin’ past quiet as mice.’
The fellow snorted a dour laugh and ran a hand over his brush-cut hair. ‘Hunh. Let’s hope they see it that way…’ He headed forward.
Cartheron repeated, ‘Quiet as mice.’ He eyed the thickening black cliff of thunderheads that loomed before them and shuddered as the chill wind buffeted his face. Years ago he’d been part of an expedition north, to Falari, transporting liberated goods too identifiable to be sold anywhere on the Quon mainland. That journey had taken him past the coastline of the Fenn Mountains. There they’d passed monstrous tongues of ice that descended the slopes and slipped down into the steep bays like serpents. Icy winds had buffeted them then, too. But now it is summer in this region! And a chill great enough to dominate this entire strait comes off these alien Stormriders alone.
He touched a hand to the railing, now glistening with delicate hoarfrost. Don’t pay us no mind, my frigid friends …
Chapter 12
Lee sat in the common room of the Golden Gyrfalcon. It was crowded now to bursting with Geffen’s toughs, plus a score of new hires, and she felt distinctly uncomfortable. Geffen had talked through his plan with her, of course, but she still couldn’t shake her dismay at the outlay of such a massive hiring; every out of work would-be street-thug and worthless dock-front layabout on the island must be crammed into the common room.
She wondered on the scale of the riot should it come out that they didn’t have the coin to pay half those present.
Geffen himself paced before the broad cobblestone fireplace, eyeing his gathered force, impatient.
‘Everyone here?’ he demanded.
She scanned the crowd. ‘Near enough. I called for everyone.’
He gave a curt nod. ‘Good.’
She couldn’t help it. Her gaze drifted to the slim dark figure sitting alone despite the crowd, leaning back, arms crossed and hands tucked up beneath his armpits, that mordant smile on his lips as if he knew what was going to happen – and that it would all end in disaster. She yanked her gaze away.
Geffen raised his arms for silence. ‘Okay! Everyone! You all know the fleet left this morning. Mock and most of his captains are gone – including most of the damned Napans.’
‘Going to finally burn that bar down, Gef?’ someone called from the crowd.
‘Mock doesn’t want property damage,’ Lee snapped. ‘Bad for business.’
Geffen gestured for silence. ‘That bitch has earned it right enough. But that’s just for openers.’ He raised an arm, pointing towards the ceiling. ‘Why mess around with the small timers when the Hold is empty?’
Though he’d let her in on the scale of his plan, Lee couldn’t help letting out an awed breath. Gods be damned … he’s actually going to go through with it. In the stunned silence she sensed the implications of Geffen’s words settling in.
‘Why should the captains listen to you?’ someone called out, breaking the long silence.
Good question.
Geffen nodded, acknowledging the concern, then opened his arms wide. ‘Because we’re inside and they’re out! Possession is nine-tenths of the law, my friend.’
Good answer.
‘And the Napans?’ someone else asked.
‘We’ll settle that score tonight. Then the Hold.’
Lee frowned, thinking. Why bother with the Napans at all? But then, if they couldn’t handle even that feud then they sure didn’t belong in the Hold. And so she nodded, sending Geffen her approval.
He nodded back, winking, and threw his arms wide. ‘Tonight.’ He gestured to her. ‘Lee, take whoever you need.’