In Search of Spice (52 page)

Captain Lim considered Sara. He was used to negotiating with many peoples, some exceptionally devious, and he was aware of the pitfalls in this conversation.

“The Princess should be aware I am unable to speak for all the trading ships or the entire Sung Empire. I am able to promise I will not trade in Harrheinian slaves, which I do freely, and I will act as your agent to buy back your people. For a percentage. However, you should know many of your people are happy in their new station in life, and many will not want to return.”

“That is acceptable, Captain. I do understand, as many would find life very different and their position socially unacceptable back in Harrhein, but we must do what we can for our people. We will make a sole trading agreement between yourself and the Crown of Harrhein, and as such you will find your own power increases. You, alone from Sung, will be welcome to trade in Harrhein or our ships can meet you half way. This should help you to ensure the trade in Harrheinian people is significantly reduced.”

Captain Lim felt lights go off in his brain. He knew from the small sample of exotic goods that these people were a key to unimaginable wealth and it was being offered to him on a platter. Sole trading agreement! Sung merchants would pay fortunes for these exotic wines, foods, liquors and fabrics, only available through his house. His future and that of his ancestors and their descendants would be secured for a hundred years! His name would live forever. Yes, the price was high, because it would mean assassination would become something to avoid on a daily basis, but this was not something to turn away. And this slip of a girl, so young, was sitting there staring at him, knowing perfectly well what she offered him. And the price he must pay. He noticed the steel and sadness deep in her eyes and felt respect rise in his body.

Showing nothing of his churning feelings on his face, he stood abruptly and bowed low from the waist, holding the bow long, making it the mark of respect to a powerful king, the greatest sign of respect the Sung made to people who were not Sung. He heard the hiss of surprise go round his staff. He rose, finding as he did so the Princess had also risen and bowed to him, the perfect level of bow to a person of status, lesser status.

“Please join us on my ship for the evening meal.” He spoke directly to Sara. “Do bring your Captain and those of your staff that you will. Let us have pleasure and we can discuss matters further after the meal.” He turned to Captain Larroche, saluted and left the wardroom, followed by his own staff in silence.

Back in his cabin with Brian, Captain Larroche flung his hat against the wall and swore. “That bloody wee girl has bigger balls than I do. I thought she had blown it with the slaves.”

Brian chuckled. “She will be Captain before the voyage is over! Captain, you’re the best negotiator I ever sailed with, but this girl has done us a deal which is going to make us very wealthy - and we couldn’t have done it without her. This is opening up an entire country, and you know what Taufik said about the Sung, they’re the richest and most important nation in the world. She’s laid the ground work and I bet you she leaves it to you to fill in the details now.” He accepted a glass.

“Indeed,” said the Captain, “a good thing I suggested to the King to send her along.”

Brian fell silent for a moment at this outrageous claim, before returning to the subject. “I can’t get over the speed with which she concluded such a deal.”

“She didn’t conclude anything. I’ll have to finish it off. She just opened the door.”

“Which is exactly what Royalty is for. We’re lucky to have her aboard.”

Pat stood by the jib in the bows of the ship, looking down into the sea, flat and still like a mirror. He could see the stars reflected in it, and could feel Mot’s warm body by his side. Hinatea was off sorting out a dispute between the Pahippian girls. He was thinking about the Sung, trying to concentrate on the bows he had seen at a distance and wondering at their range, though the little girl with her disconcerting eyes and warm hand kept pushing into his thoughts.

She had not attended the meal, an endless parade of tiny dishes, all delicious with the food pre cut to bite size. The Sung did not use knives and forks, but spoons and sticks. Only Suzanne managed to master the sticks, but Pat had used his as a scoop, lifting the bowl of food to his mouth, managing very well. Brian had frowned at him, but several of the Sung did the same.

He sensed warmth and felt the slight vibrations of footsteps coming his way, recognising Sara by the feel. He had seen her return from the Sung junk half an hour earlier. He smiled to himself, thinking how people accused him of being a witch because of his ability to know when somebody was close at night, when all he did was train up his senses.

Sara came up beside him and slipped her arm into his. She knew him well enough to know he had sensed her approach, so she was encouraged that he allowed her to come up to him, the first time since arriving on Pahippi.

“Poor Pat,” she murmured into his hair. “I hurt you badly, didn’t I?”

He turned slowly and looked at her. She looked into his eyes, and kissed him gently on the lips. Looking up at him, she murmured, “I will always love you, Pat. Thank you for being there for me. Despite everything I have done to you.”

He didn’t move, just looked at her. “They were our friends, Sara. I feel that we have let them down and don’t know what to do.”

Sara stiffened. “I’m sorry, Pat. I know it is difficult, and I feel the same, but we could not blame the Pahippians. You know Hinatea is a leader and will have killed our people?”

Pat nodded dumbly. “She killed Dan. She told me. She’s sorry, but blames her priestess and gods for not stopping the attack.”

“She is probably right. I still don’t like her.”

Pat smiled. They were so similar. “Why am I landed with girls who tell me what to do all the time? First you, now her.”

For a moment Sara’s heart stilled. Could she tempt him back? Then it hardened. No way would she have him back after Hinatea and somehow she didn’t think he would accept Maciu. She sighed. She kissed him again, softly on the cheek, and murmured in his ear.

“You were my first love. No matter what I do, know you always hold my heart.” And she was gone. Pat looked bleakly at the sea, and felt Mot lick his hand in sympathy. In the distance he heard Stiphleek’s voice raised in song, in Harrheinian this time, till quelled by mutinous shouts.

The sun smote the sanded deck like a sledge hammer, even barely a quarter of the way up the sky. There was not a breath of air. Sara could feel the perspiration dripping down her back already, as she stood in her fighting leathers, barefoot to grip the deck. Chen Li He looked cool, dressed in what looked like a silk robe, belted at the middle. He gripped his sword, holding it negligently to one side. It had an extra reach of a good four inches.

The crews of both ships surrounded the fighting deck, the Sung in the rigging while the crew of the Queen Rose stood by the rails. Pat found a place to one side, with his scout crew by the corner where Lieutenant Mactravis and Little fussed over Sara’s leathers. He could hear Little’s whispers.

“Feel the bastard slowly, Princess. He’ll be like a striking snake, and he’ll leave openings for you all over the fucking place. Don’t take them, that’s what he wants. Look for patterns, but he’s a killing swine for sure, and I don’t reckon you’ll see any. Don’t let your own patterns last long, and don’t repeat them. See what he knows, bet he don’t know all the shit we do on the frontier.” He talked with half his attention, lovingly greasing the leathers with a rag, oblivious of her skin.

A bell rang, and the two fighters stepped forward. It rang again, and the swords lifted. Chen Li He crashed hard at Lady Strike, applying brute force. Sara expected this; many people tried it against the poor little girl playing with men. She gasped and staggered then whipped forward with a stinging riposte as she sidestepped the lunge. Chen managed to avoid it by a hair as he aborted his lunge and parried. For a moment, Sara gained the upper hand and she pressed him hard, pushing him back along the deck while he tried to circle. The speed of the swords was so fast, that only a handful of men were able to follow the moves.

Pat was not one of them and he glanced over the crowd, looking at the reactions of people. He noted one man, different from the rest. He dressed in a different manner, and he was stockier, giving an impression of power. This was a fighting man, he thought, looking at the strange garb, for he seemed to be dressed in skirts with a shirt that swelled at the shoulders. The man sensed his eyes and looked up, directly at him across the fighting deck. Hard eyes assessed Pat in the same way, and he nodded thoughtfully at Pat, and returned his gaze to the fight.

‘That,’ thought Pat, ‘is a dangerous man. One who would really give Sara a fight.’

He jumped as a hand slipped under his shirt, caressing his back and a little throaty chuckle came from behind him. A fan fluttered, and he wondered why he hadn’t sensed her. Perhaps she was more than she appeared. No, she was definitely more than she appeared.

“Your Princess, good fighter, no?” Slanting eyes smiled at him.

Pat blushed, “Yes, she is good.” He ignored Rat who was grinning and looked back at Sara. Hinatea scowled, and he was thankful she was unable to see the girl’s hand.

Sara measured her man, felt his strength through his blade and followed his moves. She knew he was holding back, but watched all the flowing moves that came from him, saw the stamping foot. He was good, very good, but so far limited in what he knew. Strong, but she had beaten stronger swordsmen. Very, very fast, but she was faster, though she held her speed down and slowly drew more and more techniques from him.

Chen Li He was stunned. He knew he was a good fighter, but this girl was unbelievable. Every move he tried, she countered easily and he could tell she knew the move and even felt she knew before he did what he would try next. Her strength was so great he couldn’t measure it, and he stopped thinking of her as a girl. He deliberately cleared his mind, repeating the mantra and felt for the void.

Sara sensed the change in him, and raised her game. She flowed into her moves, her mind blank, and she felt the dance begin. Time stood still for her. She had only moved into this mental state a few times and welcomed it.

Lieutenant Mactravis recognised the change, as did Little. “Fucking hell,” whispered the latter.

Pat’s dangerous man also saw it and his eyes narrowed with interest.

Pat knew something had happened because the hand on the small of his back tensed, seeming to grip his spine. He whipped his glance back to Sara and saw her in fighting state.

The blades blurred and danced, Sara dancing round the deck and driving Chen where she willed. It seemed to go on and on, a deadly beauty in the intricate steps. The crews murmured, even their untrained eyes knew they were seeing something special. Chen Li He’s sword arced up into the air, flicked away by an untraceable movement from Lady Strike. He dropped to his knees, arms forward and bent his head backwards, exposing his throat. Lady Strike whistled as she sliced the air at her highest speed so far.

With a huge effort she stopped, inches from the vulnerable throat.

She gasped, and sagged, her eyes rolling back and a victory smile blossoming.

Silence.

The dangerous man moved first, and he was beside Sara and supporting her as she sagged.

“Steady, girl,” he whispered. “Come, gently, back to this world. Here, your soul belongs here, in your body.” He continued speaking softly and insistently, cursing his poor Belada and relapsing into his native tongue.

Both crews stayed silent, none understanding what they had witnessed, but all knowing it was something special. The kai Viti broke the silence, breaking into song, a melancholy song of victory none had heard before. It broke the spell, and Lieutenant Mactravis moved forward to help with Sara, while Sung people surrounded Chen.

Sara found herself. She opened her eyes and smiled beatifically. “Oh, my. That was so good.”

“You were magnificent, Highness.” Mactravis whispered with a note of awe in his voice.

“Fucking brilliant.”

Sara smiled. “First time I have heard a note of genuine respect in your voice, Little!”

“You are a child of the void.” This was a new voice, a lisping one. Sara looked at a strange man, with an aura of power, who looked back with a flat gaze. “I look forward to touching it with you, and perhaps in my own small way I can guide your advance. You have incredible potential.” The man bowed slightly, turned and left.

Chen came to her. “Princess, I thank you for my life,” he said formally. “I was outclassed, and you drove me into the void for the first time. I thank you, and pray you will grace me with your teachings in future.”

Then to the astonishment of the Harrheinians he dropped to his knees and banged his forehead against the deck at her feet. He rose and walked away with an unsteady gait.

Taufik pushed through the crowd and whispered in her ear. “That is the Sung mark of respect, they are supposed to reserve it for their revered superiors. I have never seen it done before, never heard of it done to somebody who is not Sung.”

Pat was quiet, thinking about what he had just seen. He knew what had happened to Sara, for he went into grace, as he called it from the Elvish, the zone, a peak emotional state, whenever he shot arrows. And often when he hunted. This was the first time he had seen her go into it, and he wondered at the reaction. He had used grace for so long he could not remember the first time. The others had gone, mobbing around Sara, even Hinatea forgetting all about the Sung girl.