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Authors: Steph Swainston

Tags: #02 Science-Fiction

No Present Like Time (38 page)

BOOK: No Present Like Time
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“I didn’t know Capharnaum had drunks.”

“It does now. Those men were the merchants Mist paid. I know, because they hassled me for rum as we were rolling the kegs up here. I don’t know how I’m supposed to look like a pusher or a captain if I have to sleep in the outdoors…”

“Keep to the point.”

“Well, Mist gave them so many riches they don’t have to work anymore. Their money is time, and she gave them years of time so now they’re idle. I hope she profited from those peppercorns and pickles, the Entrepreneur Of Misrule, like myself.” He rubbed his plump hands together. “They’re not used to rum but they’ve found a taste for it. They drink it like wine. Because they’re armed, they’re Creating Trouble. It just goes to show that the only Truly International Language is drugs.”

I began to understand. I prompted, “They’re armed? They’ll be armed with the swords and halberds we sold them?”

Cinna nodded. “Yes, I think so. I was told that the Senate tried to buy up all the weapons from the townspeople to give to their patrols but they clearly didn’t get them all because I hear there were armed robberies—at storehouses and the market. Also, young men keep soliciting to buy swords from us. It seems they’ve become quite a status symbol. Capharnai have never seen quality steel before; it’s worth its weight in gold. And of course men have to protect themselves from the Insect.”

“Shit.”

“The Senate is discussing imposing taxes to pay the patrols.” Cinna appraised the Wheel brooch on my patched coat. “Gio is waiting for you and Serein. Gio wondered if
Stormy Petrel
had gone down in the storm. Of course, he reckoned without Mist’s marvelous seamanship. He was thinking about his next move. He told Senator Vendace that we would leave Capharnaum, but he doesn’t really mean to. He’s safe here; the Senate is In His Pocket.”

Cinna put a special emphasis on Gio’s name. He was obviously firmly under the fencing master’s influence. Nine hundred men following Gio, I thought. They outnumber us more than three to one. Still, that’s better odds than against the Insects. “If I have to stain my hands with blood, I must admit this rabble is less daunting than the swarms.”

Cinna gaped. “You think it’s just Gio? No, Comet. God, sometimes I believe all you have to do to be immortal is out-arrogance each other.”

“Spit it out.”

“Gio has won over the Senate and he’s prepared to lead all Capharnaum against you when you land.” He went on, “Everyone here hates you, and Gio has been planning. When
Petrel
sails into harbor she’ll be surrounded, you’ll be seized. There are twenty thousand people in this town.

“Vendace was wary because of the disastrous effects of your visit. But Gio’s rhetoric quite convinced him. You should’ve tried making long speeches in the Senate.” Cinna smirked. “Gio’s here for the same reasons and on the same terms as the original settlers—to leave the Empire and San. Vendace thought he had found a Kindred Spirit. Gio offered to help hunt the Insect and being desperate they welcomed him with open arms. His interpreters are at home with their old lingo. The Senate didn’t like the look of us tars as much. They’ve been discussing it for three days but they haven’t made a decision yet.”

I wished for another stint in the Senate. If Gio can sway their opinion simply by talking to them, I thought how much better I could be when it was my turn. Gio may have had two weeks to work on their hearts and minds, but I’d love a verbal battle with him.

Cinna sniggered. “They are so naïve. Myself and three colleagues could control this town in a year without drawing a sword or promising immortality—Ulp!” I pressed my ice pick to his throat. He gulped: I expected his eyes to pop in like a frog’s. I couldn’t bear the thought that he could turn Capharnaum into a slum worse than East Bank Hacilith. I hissed, “You bastard, if you ever bring drugs to Tris, if you even
think
of peddling here, I swear I’ll kill you. If you hide your tracks I’ll trace them, because I know every link in a larger world than you could ever comprehend. You’ll beg to be sent to the Front. You will beg for the wheel. I will have you keelhauled from bow to stern of the
Petrel
—”

“No!”

“You could do with losing some weight. The same goes for if you tell Gio I’ve been here.”

Cinna wiggled his shoulders, trying to pull away from the pick dimpling his neck. “Please, Comet. I’m a businessman and San’s humble servant. I shall always give a truthful account and say nothing to Gio. In the meantime I’ve arranged to stay on board
Pavonine
…It’s the safest place to be.”

“Coward,” I mouthed. I licked salt off my lips.

“Look at you grin. You’re enjoying this! Mad Eszai. If
Petrel
lands, Gio will kill you. If you turn tail and run home, you’ll starve on the journey. I wonder what San will think when his Circle breaks for Four Immortals At Once? Bet that’d give him a headache.”

I prodded him with the axe. “Where’s Gio now? Does he stay on
Pavonine
?”

Cinna shook his head; the blond hairs on his chin wagged. He pointed up, across the mosaic, to a concertina-shuttered lit window above the Senate House. “See the end room? Right on the corner past the last column? That’s the bedroom of the apartment that Vendace gave him. All the senators have rooms up there. It’s very plush,” he added, with a quiet admiration of Gio’s achievement. “Now tell me, Messenger, isn’t that a useful piece of information?”

“It certainly is.”

Cinna glanced at the firelight and the rebels singing drunkenly. He pressed a note into my hand. “Please let me go. I respect Mist. I’d like to help her, the little I can. It’s tough to find a way through the surf. I wrote down the details of our approach to the beacon and the position and condition of
Pavonine.
Please give it to her.”

M
idnight on the open sea. The attendant hush of an imminent downpour. I flew circuits over the correct position but couldn’t sight
Stormy Petrel
through the rain clouds. A weak glow backlit them; I homed in on it and descended. Mist had festooned every surface, cable and yard with lanterns showing me where to land.
Petrel
’s lights blazed on a yellow ring of water in the impenetrable night. She looked like a party yacht, but she yawed and rolled madly.

Lights attached to the main deck railings marked two parallel lines. I had touched down safely between them. Now, sitting at the table in Mist’s quiet cabin, Lightning and I watched her sailors disassembling the lanthorns and hurricane lamps. They were extinguished one by one, until the office and wheelhouse were the only cabins lit.

“Take a good look,” said Mist. “Tomorrow night we burn no lantern. The wind is dropping and our approach is good, thanks to Jant’s spy. You will have the pleasure of sneaking to Capharnaum in complete darkness, through the narrow strait by their beacon islet. You must trust me.”

“Yes, but for god’s sake don’t trust Cinna. He’s a craven liar, he only worships money. Thankfully Gio doesn’t know what to ask, or Cinna would tell him everything.”

“Just how did you come to know Cinna, anyway?” Mist asked.

“Let’s not go into that,” I said dismissively. I poured myself a quantity of Lightning’s brandy and rested my head on my arms.

“Why is Wrenn not present?” Lightning demanded.

“He is too young,” said Mist demurely.

Lightning raised his eyebrows. “Why isn’t Rayne here?”

“She is too old.”

“Simply that they would disagree with your methods,” Lightning said.

“Wrenn is impetuous and idealistic. The Doctor’s not a warrior and can bring little to the table. Please let me outline my plans for you clearheaded gentlemen first.”

Lightning said, “It is the same as when I tried to eradicate Insects from the streets of Micawater. How do we get rid of Gio and his vicious followers without damaging the town?”

“Or making the Senate detest us more than they already do?” I added.

Mist said, “San gave me the task; I
will
fulfill it. The way ahead is clear. Listen! Lightning, if you were to remove the leader, the rebellion would collapse. Your skill with the longbow makes you best suited to try.”

In the short silence Lightning gazed at his rummer glass. He said amiably, “You’re asking me to capture Gio? Or assassinate him?”

“Saker, think—”

“No.” He looked at her directly. “No, Ata; I won’t do that.”

Mist folded her arms. “Saker, I’m surprised that you don’t want to regain your honor and take revenge on Gio for stabbing you in the back.”

“It would be less worthy still to become an assassin,” Lightning explained. “I have never killed a man, and if I were simply to hide and shoot him, I don’t know if I could live with myself afterward. I do not want to spend the next few centuries troubled by guilt and introspection. In addition to the fact that it would lose me my esteem.”

“No one on the mainland will ever know. None of your sentiments apply to us in this plight. We’re far from home. There are no ingrained traditions, carved beasts carrying pennants, heraldic old charters to say who we are. We’re understocked and badly prepared. The Capharnai don’t know us and Gio has stacked the odds against us. Eliminating him is the only way.”

“Why?”

“Because it’ll save Trisian lives! They’re innocent; I don’t want to harm them. If we remove Gio, the Capharnai will be peaceable without him. If we set foot in Capharnaum while Gio controls it, we’re dead. I think that Gio’s lust to rejoin the Circle is driving him insane. You know the saying: Pure ambition seeks one goal only. Don’t you think Gio’s deeds are a mad panic, rather than a Challenge?”

“I think mad people want to see the madness in everyone,” I commented.

The Sailor ignored me. “Saker, you
must
stop him. Can you think of a better idea?”

Lightning slowly replied, “No. Nonetheless, you have my answer. I will not shoot Gio. I do not want it on my conscience for the rest of my life.” He undid the buttons at his collar and pulled the silk down so that we could see a small circular scar pierced front and back through his shoulder. “See this? An arrow shaft. Eight hundred years ago I beat a Challenger and he turned around and shot me. Fortunately he had a terrible aim and failed to take my life. He spent the rest of his days in the Sturge Prison on Teron Island. There is nothing honorable about assassins; I don’t want to be one…Anyway, it would look pretty obvious if Gio is found with an arrow in his chest. It is not for me…” He trailed off, thoughtfully, and stroked the scar on his right hand.

“Jant—” Mist began.

“Ha! Just because I’m not Lord Micawater you think I have no morals! Besides, Gio’s the most dangerous man in the world. Lightning is more capable of dealing with him than I am.”

“But the bastard wounded him. Lightning, your good friend…”

“Yes, and the bastard would run me through if he had the chance.”

“Remember all the awful slander you said Gio lambasted us with in his rally? You said you were ready to shoot him.”

I thought privately of how he slurred Tern’s reputation and my manhood and dependability. Yes, I had been prepared to kill him.

Mist smiled eerily and prompted, “Gio attacked the Castle, Jant. There’s no doubt but he deserves what he gets. A few drops of the drug you keep injecting yourself with should do the trick.”

I looked at Lightning, who shrugged. I said reluctantly, “All right, I’ll do it.”

“Good!” said Mist. Her leather trousers creaked as she stood up. She turned to her cot and began to delve around energetically inside it. “If you make it look like he was addicted and took an overdose, we can discredit him in the Fourlands.”

I gave her a flat stare. “And make the climate dangerous for other people who happen to be users? Thank you, but no. Besides, I need all my supply.”

If an Eszai commits a crime and is caught, the Castle has no power to try him, nor may the Emperor intercede on his behalf. Instead, he is handed over to the court of the country in which the crime took place, to be tried and sentenced there. I couldn’t guess how a Trisian court might work, or how severe the penalty might be. Or if I could successfully talk myself out of it.

Likewise, there is only one circumstance in which the Castle may interfere in a country’s business—if an Eszai has been attacked or murdered, the assailant must be handed over to the Castle to be tried according to the law of his homeland, as happened with Lightning’s erstwhile assassin eight centuries ago. If the murderer is protected by his country, San would forbid entrance to the Circle for anyone from that land, undeniably a terrible threat.

Mist’s cot was a boxlike bed with a drape of thick ivory lace. It swung as she pulled up the meager mattress and extracted a bulky white packet—the envelope of scolopendium that Cinna had originally sold me. She tossed it onto the table. “An additional supply. Use a pinch of powder.”

“But, Ata,” I said, startled, “you said you’d thrown it in the sea! Wrenn told me you had. You led him to believe…”

“I never discard useful assets.”

I stared at her wondering if she had
wanted
me to become addicted. My stash in the coat hem she had overlooked, all the needles and vials on the
Melowne
—I had been surprised there were so many—had she intended me to find them and get hooked so that I would be helpless and corruptible, under her control? And now she bribed me with the drugs I bought myself!

I knew how crazy that sounded, so I said nothing. Without proof, I did not dare to accuse her. I was as lost and confused as in an Awian maze. “Oh, in San’s name, what choice do I have?”

I pulled the envelope toward me gingerly, aware of Lightning’s disapproval. The last thing I wanted was Gio materializing in Epsilon. I needed a poison that would kill him outright and quickly, so as not to give him a chance to reach a Shift world. I said, “Gio might detect scolopendium; it has a distinctive taste. If you’re devoted to this course, I can propose a less risky, more efficient substance.” I slipped my wedding band off my fourth finger, and the broader ring that I wore below it—a black star sapphire set in silver. I pushed the stone with my thumbnail; it depressed then popped open. Inside were two very small white tablets. I passed the ring to Ata.

“What are they?”

“Atropine. Extracted from belladonna root.”

“Deadly nightshade! For god’s sake—what are you carrying that for?” She returned them carefully.

“I always keep them there. Atropine is effective in treating scolopendium overdose. One tablet would counteract the toxin, although I’ve rarely been able to take it. Two tablets are lethal. They’re soluble and tasteless.”

Lightning made a decision. “I think I should accompany you, unless you fear I will slow you down. I’ll never murder but I will shoot to defend us.”

“Please,” I said gratefully. With Lightning to back me up, I felt I could do anything. Archer and Messenger, we’d share Gio between us. I picked his bottle from its holder clipped to the table. “I’ll decant for Gio a full-bodied draft. Unlike you I don’t care enough for it to leave a bitter aftertaste. I know that he won’t savor a lingering finish, because atropine will rapidly cause fever, a dry thirst balanced with the aroma of delirium, a sparkling racing pulse, a blend of spicy burning sensations, confusion, convulsions, coma and death. That’s what I call a rich vintage.” I swirled the bottle and took a long pull.

“You are a sick man, Jant Shira.”

Mist shrugged. “So we are decided. We approach tomorrow night at this time.
Petrel
will stay out of sight and I’ll row you two to the harbor. I’ll wait at the end of the quay.
Petrel
is safe under Viridian’s command. I will arrange for her to bring the ship in to retrieve us two hours before dawn. Our hundred sailors and our hundred and fifty fyrd led by Serein will be ready on board if we need them. Lightning, what arms do you advise?”

The Archer pondered. “Crossbows are better than longbows for fighting in a town, much as I don’t like them. I don’t want to cause casualties among the Capharnai, and you can take crossbows anywhere, even down tunnels.”

“Good. When Gio’s body is discovered, the Senate will have little choice but to talk with us.”

“I hope it works.” Lightning sighed. “Goodnight, coconspirators.”

I was about to follow him out of the cabin when the ship slewed. Canvas flapped wildly as the wind changed direction, whistling around the mainmast. Ata shoved past me, stuck her head out of the door and yelled, “Bring her about! She luffs, you lazy sods! Are you asleep in there? Make use of this wind!”

Cinna’s envelope lay forgotten on the table. My mouth dried up. I never have enough cat, I always want more. I couldn’t stop myself. I sneaked the envelope inside my coat and slipped out past Ata. “’Bye, Jant…” she muttered. “Faster,
Petrel.
Faster, my love. Gio has nowhere left to flee.”

BOOK: No Present Like Time
11.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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