In Search of Spice (25 page)

“Lava glass,” he answered. “Sharpest knife you can get, but brittle. Make sure it doesn’t snap off inside when you pull one out.”

“It didn’t. Here, bind this up will you, I need to get Sara back.”

She left him and went over to where Pat was enthusiastically ploughing into Sara, and leaned over and touched her pendant to Sara’s head. Sara’s eyes flew wide and she looked up.

“What the hell,” she cried. “What’s going on?”

“Magic attack. Have you got a defensive charm?”

“Yes. In my bags.” Her answer was a little cut off as she had to speak in time with Pat. Sara started to colour up as she realised what was happening to her and she was having sex out in the open where everyone could see.

“You need to get them and you can help me.”

“Sure. What about Pat? Don’t hurt him,” she cried as Suzanne tapped him on the back of the head with her staff.

“Not a chance,” she said. “He’ll wake in an hour with a slight headache but hes fine.”

“What’s happening?” Sara asked as she adjusted her clothing and fondled his cheek gently.

Suzanne sighed and repeated her explanation, looking carefully at Sara, pleased at the speed she came back to reality.

Sara stood up and turned away, looking over the side as she did so. “Oh no,” she cried. “The ship is still moving. We’ll run aground.”

“Shit.” Suzanne shouted. “Mactravis! Get some men organised and get the anchor down!” She looked up at the rigging. The sails were reefed, so it would be a question of getting an anchor down. At that moment there was a creak and a groan, the whole ship seemed to shudder and she came to a slow stop, canting over at a slight angle, run aground. “Never mind, Mactravis. Let me know when your men are ready, we need to incapacitate all the islanders.”

“Sure Suzanne,” he responded, looking down to the main deck, his eyes narrowing as he counted out his soldiers. Corporal Strachan was covered in blood. “Strachan!” he shouted. “If that’s your blood, you’ll lose a stripe! Report!”

Strachan’s voice came up from the deck, strained and a little shocked. “Not mine, sir. All Royal Pathfinders accounted for, uninjured and ready for duty, sir!”

“I want every islander on board incapacitated and tied up. Knock them out first if they are still fucking. Then start to revive the crew.”

“Sir, we’ll have the girls sorted in a couple of minutes. With regard to the crew, how?”

Mactravis hesitated. When officers didn’t know what to do, sergeants and corporals usually did. They weren’t supposed to need instruction. “Get up here and we’ll take advice from the experts. And find me Sergeant Russell!”

“He’s not responding, I’m afraid,” said Perryn, relaxing back from Walters, who was clasping an unconscious girl with a beatific smile. “I’m not sure how much help he would be, to be honest. He really doesn’t do any religious work, let alone magic. He is very much just a scholar.”

“All right,” said Suzanne in frustration. “Here is Sara back, and Mactravis.”

Mactravis came up to her, then turned and watched Sergeant Russell and Corporal Strachan come up the ladder and join them. He turned to her. “Can you give us some instructions to revive the crew, Suzanne?”

She stared at him blankly for a minute. “No,” she sighed. “Perryn, Sara, any ideas?”

The two looked at each other. Sara shrugged. “How long will your pendant work, Suzanne?” Perryn asked. “Could we use it to clear people’s minds?”

“Frankly, I’ve no idea. So far, I’ve only tried it on people who already have some training in magical protection and their own charms.” She looked over the five of them. “Is it just us six and the other Pathfinders who are able to work and fight?

“Yes, Suzanne.” Mactravis looked at her steadily. “The Captain is not capable at present and for how long I don’t know. Until he does, you are the ranking officer, ma’am.”

She stared at him for a moment. “Fine. Report please.”

“Russell?” Mactravis said.

“Sir. We have fifty eight island girls unconscious and tied up on the main deck. There are twenty three confirmed dead crew, mostly male with two girls, and another thirty with some sort of injury, six of which are terminal. That’s not including those here on the poop. We have not been all over the ship, there may be others.”

Suzanne stared at him, speechless.

“Don’t take it so hard, Captain,” said Mactravis. “If it wasn’t for you, we would all be dead.”

“It was the dog,” whispered Suzanne. “She woke me.” They all looked at Mot, who was lying beside Pat’s unconscious form. Her tail thumped the deck. “And the Bosun? Is she alive?”

“Yes sir. She’s still fucking, sir.”

Suzanne looked over the rail, and realised what members of the crew she could see were all copulating. “Twenty three dead already. In moments. I can’t believe it. That’s nearly a quarter of the crew.” She shook herself. “Perryn, the spell seems to be gone. Did you do that?”

“Err, no Captain, but I agree, it seems to have cut off. I expect it is very difficult to cast and the mage won’t be able to keep it up for a long time.”

“The crew are still going and I can feel the pressure in my mind, still.”

“It seems to engrave itself in the mind, creating a sort of loop that keeps on even when the original spell is no longer active. It’s an interesting spell, almost with a life of its own that feeds on the people who it hits. Gosh! I’ve never imagined anything like this. It’s a whole new application.” Perryn started to get enthusiastic.

“Yes, yes, Perryn, but how do we break it?”

“I have no idea,” Perryn began, when a scuffling alerted them. They looked over to see the girl who had been with Perryn sitting up, rubbing her head. She looked over at the six of them, saw Perryn and smiled. She got up casually and walked over, linked her arm in Perryn’s and smiled shyly at the others.

They looked back at her in some amazement. “Do you speak Belada?” Suzanne asked in that language. The girl looked back blankly.

“She doesn’t appear to be under the spell anymore,” observed Sara. “Maybe knocking them out has reset the spell.”

“Not entirely,” observed Mactravis as the girl gripped Perryn’s hand.

“Strachan,” said Suzanne crisply, “make sure all the girls up here are secured. We just knocked them out.”

“Ma’am!” Strachan saluted as he proceeded to carry out the order.

“Perryn,” continued Suzanne, “You’re research. Find out how to revive people. Make sure there is a protective spell over us to ensure it cannot happen again.” Perryn nodded, muttering slightly under his breath.

“Sara, you’re promoted to mate. Check out the situation with the ship. Get the anchors out behind us and attached to the capstan. I want us pulled off at the highest tide and anchored out in deeper water. Plan it out, work out how many men you need. And check on the Spakka. I presume it affected them as well but I haven’t seen any.”

“Captain!” Sara nodded crisply.

Sergeant Russell came to attention. They all looked at him, and he spoke, looking at the sky. “Captain, the spell badly affected the Spakka. Their buddy system had something to do with it. Perhaps half the dead are Spakka.” There was something about his report which made them think he was holding something back, but after a moment’s pause he closed him mouth in a tight line.

“Thank you Sergeant. Mactravis, no prizes for guessing your duty. Defence! I don’t want anyone within two hundred paces of the ship. Grey Fox is to be on permanent guard with his bow. He can sleep when there is somebody watching nearby who can wake him in need. Now we need intelligence. As the women wake up, see if any speak Belada. Then we can question them and find out what is going on. Anyone you can spare to help Perryn? I was thinking Little might be useful.” Perryn looked back and nodded.

“No problem,” responded Mactravis. “Shall I also get those of the crew who are unconscious put in their cabins or hammocks, and prepare the dead for burial?”

“Yes, do it. Oh my, what about the dwarves? Have you checked on them?”

Mactravis answered carefully. “I have not. I have served with dwarves a few times and know them quite well. They are unusually resistant to magic attacks, but if they got the urge we will find out if any of those on board are female because the others will be fighting. But judging from the lack of noise from the forge, they are all dead drunk. That is a frequent reaction to crisis of this sort.”

Strachan came back. “All secured, ma’am. You may want to look at the woman who was with the Captain. She is older than the others and she looks to be stirring.”

“Good. Carry on, people. Mactravis, after you have detailed orders for your men, join me. Oh, and reviving ship’s officers is a priority.”

Suzanne went to where the Captain lay and looked at the girl who had been with him. She was indeed older than the others, perhaps thirty though it was hard to tell with these different people. She gestured to the Captain and Strachan and a soldier picked him up and took him to his cabin. She concentrated on the woman.

Really, she could be a Harrheinian, if it were not for her skin, she thought. Her features are regular, no difference, It’s just the skin colour and they all have black hair. No blondes, redheads or even brown. Her thoughts went on as she dropped to a squat beside the woman, looking at her body now. Thin, but not unfit. No boobs to speak about, and none of them do really. No fat showing. Strong, though, the muscles are lean and long.

The woman’s eyes fluttered, and focused on Suzanne. They went wide in surprise and fear. She tried to make a gesture with her hand and realised she was bound. She started to babble in her language.

“Do you speak Belada?” Suzanne asked, beginning to wonder if the hours spent learning had been worthwhile.

“A ship with women on board?” The woman replied in Belada.

“Why not?” Suzanne snapped, “Is this how you always welcome traders?”

The woman blinked. “Trader? What is trader?”

Suzanne was taken aback. “Um, we discuss the value of goods we have, and exchange them. That is why we have a big ship, to carry cargo to swap with you. Our cargo is from far away and valuable to you, yours is very valuable to us when we get home.”

“You no take?” The woman was calming down with this prosaic talk.

“No. Not good. We come every year, exchange goods; you make better goods for us, grow and become richer.”

The woman looked at her. “People not goods,” she snapped with heat.

“We do not trade in people. You see any on this ship?”

The woman sat up and shook herself, seeming to take stock and examined Suzanne. “I Rereau. I junior priestess of the Pahipi. I sorry we welcome you this way. We think you Umayyads.”

“What is an Uma-yat?”

“They come in ships, not so big as yours. One sail, they come, take our boys and girls, kill others, steal our food.”

“How often do they come?”

“Not often. I think long way. Maybe once, two times in 5 years. Very bad when come. We not fighting people. We girls make this plan. It works on them. Two ships at bottom of sea here.” She looked around at the ship and smiled tentatively. “Magic very strong. How you escape?”

Suzanne did not smile back. “Twenty three of my sailors are dead and another six will be soon. What sort of a welcome is that?”

Rereau blinked. “I sorry.”

“Sorry? That does not help my dead men. And what will the survivors think? Their friends killed while they were beside them, fucking, sometimes fucking their friend’s wife! I watched that man die,” she pointed at the second mate. “He was my friend.”

Rereau looked calmly at her. “I six years old when I see my mother raped till dead by foreigners like you, while my father watch with arms and legs chopped off, bleeding to death. My village burn down, and only twenty escape. You foreigners come and destroy us, every year, and now you upset we fight back? This is last island, nowhere else for us to run.”

Suzanne blinked and settled back on her haunches. The woman pressed her attack. “How we know you any different? You come in big ship, we think you take our young people as slaves. And now what you do? You catch us, tie us, now go ashore kill old people? Steal food? Burn houses? Chop up children? Well, you can. We women have failed in saving our people, and you have killed all men.”

Suzanne stood up and turned away, she hadn’t thought anything beyond getting the ship in order. The woman’s words echoed in her head and she called Mactravis and Sara over to her, Sara coming up from the bows where she had been diving into the sea to inspect the damage.

Mactravis spoke first. “We’ve cleaned up the dead; they’re being sewn into cloth for burial. Wounded are in the galley, ready for you to have a look at them. Perryn and Little are working on ships officers, not much luck. I can lead the Pathfinders on a reprisal raid when you are ready, Captain.”

Suzanne looked hard at him, but didn’t respond immediately. She needed to think first, so she nodded at Sara.

“Doesn’t seem to be any damage, no split planks, but the bows are wedged pretty deep into sand. I’ve no idea how much effort it will take to get them out. But we can run out anchors behind the ship and try and pull her off at high tide, which I think should be in about four hours. I will need all the soldiers to turn the capstan, if the crew haven’t recovered. Can we do that before any reprisals? We don’t want to risk losing any men.”