The Devil Incarnate (The Devil of Ponong series #2) (27 page)

“That’s rather the point of the Thampurian military’s order,
isn’t it?”

Hadre groaned. He assumed QuiTai knew who controlled
Thampur’s military as well as he did. The King’s cousin and trusted confidant.
The rudder hidden under the waves. Grandfather.

~ ~ ~

Maybe QuiTai and Hadre could understand what was being left
unsaid, but Voorus couldn’t follow it. He caught glimpses of something big but
none of it made sense to him. “You’re going to hang,” he told QuiTai.

She waved her hand, dismissing his threat. “So you keep
telling me. And oh yes, I quite believe that you’d like to, but wouldn’t it be
uncivilized to hang someone just for saying something you don’t want to hear?
Or worse, knowing about something that goes against every principle you believe
in?”

“You don’t know what I believe in, snake.”

“Panic isn’t becoming in a soldier. Gather your balls,
Captain.”

“This isn’t getting us anywhere. Captain Voorus, please,
just answer her questions. If you’re going to hang her anyway, what does it
hurt to tell her what you know?” Hadre asked.

“Well said, Hadre.” QuiTai pressed her palms together and
bowed to him.

Thunderclaps made it
impossible to speak for a moment. Voorus almost pulled the blanket over his
shoulders, but then remembered that would expose his legs. He wanted to go to
sleep. He was still a bit dizzy, and the cot’s leather strips pressed against
his bruised legs.

“All I’ve heard are insults, not questions.” Voorus didn’t
like feeling stupid. Every moment he passed in QuiTai’s presence made him feel
dimwitted. Was it possible that this woman was really that intelligent? He’d
seen her come up with some good solutions on Cay Rhi. Of course, she’d tricked
them into leaving her unattended while she helped some of the slaves escape,
but everything else she’d told them had been useful. She’d probably saved the
lives of a few of his men. He bet that galled her.

 
“Who decided
to ban the Ponongese from the marketplace?” QuiTai asked him.

“I’ve been trying to figure that out since it happened! I’ve
been trying to reach the governor and chief justice, but they’ve gone into
hiding.”

“I know about your efforts.”

Of course she did, so why did she bother to ask?

“The colonial militia wasn’t involved, was it? The other
soldiers carried out the orders.” Her voice was soft, almost as if she wanted
to absolve him of responsibility.

“I demanded to know who gave them their orders, but they
refused to tell me. I know that they were summoned to the government building
to explain their actions.” Voorus felt like a failure.

She looked concerned. “Those soldiers laughed at the
governor. Didn’t they, Voorus?”

“How do you know –”

“Governor Turyat told me. Or perhaps it was Chief Justice
Cuulon. It was a bit muddled at that point. I would have pried further but ran
out of time.”

Voorus laughed.
“They told you? The governor and the chief justice? They told you? I’m the
captain of the colonial militia, and I can’t get anyone to tell me anything
– but you, the Devil’s whore, they tell you about a secret meeting? I’m
supposed to believe that?”

QuiTai said nothing.
The look on her face chilled him. Did her power extend high enough that she
could command a private audience with Turyat and Cuulon, when he couldn’t even
get into the front courtyard of their compounds? What the hell was going on in
Levapur?

“Moving on, who
decided to close the schools?” she asked.

“What? Close the
schools?” He was really beginning to hate this conversation.

“So you didn’t know.
I suspected as much. And, of course, you had no part in the attack on the new
Ponongese marketplace in Old Levapur. I have many witnesses who will swear you
stopped the other soldiers. I’m also aware that you apologized.”

Voorus’ mouth dropped open. He turned to Hadre. “I never
–”

“Why in the name of the Goddess of Mercy would you deny
apologizing?” Hadre asked. “Only right thing to do, given the circumstances.”

“Thampurians should never break ranks. It gives the natives
the wrong impression.” It sounded stupid to Voorus when he said it out loud;
but at the time, it had seemed so reasonable. “And why, why did they pretend
they didn’t speak Thampurian? Hmm?” He crossed his arms over his chest and
dared QuiTai to explain that.

“That woman wasn’t pretending. She only speaks Ponongese, as
do most people in Old Levapur.”

“They should learn to speak the language,” Voorus grumbled.

“Yes, you should.” QuiTai’s jaw clenched. She took a deep
breath. “You should be glad someone in Old Levapur does speak Thampurian and
told the others about your apology. Otherwise, Captain, you and your men might
not have been allowed to live.”

~ ~ ~

QuiTai took a glass of rum from Hadre. He offered one to
Voorus, but she grabbed it before Voorus could. She didn’t care if it upset
him. Against her better judgment, she would protect Voorus even from himself.

When QuiTai bent down to examine his eyes, Voorus flinched.
She fought the urge to slap him. “Your pupils are almost the same size now, but
you should wait until the ship’s doctor has examined you before imbibing.”

“You had no problem giving me a dose of black lotus
earlier.”

“We had to move
quickly. Someone else could have heard your whistle. You were in a great deal
of pain and carrying you here was bound to hurt more. It seemed safest for
everyone involved if you were in dream.”

“Aren’t those barbs
usually tipped with venom?”

“Yes. But we weren’t
hunting food, and none of us particularly wanted to be connected to the mob
that attacked you.”

“Connected?” Voorus’
already suspicious expression deepened.

She would not show
how annoyed she was with Voorus. “For a man who has lived on this island as
long as you have, you know very little about my people.”

“Didn’t seem
important.”

“I hope you’re
rethinking that willful ignorance. Or maybe I don’t. Keep living in your little
world, Captain. The isolation must be so comforting.”

Hadre cleared his throat. “Do we have time for this?”

QuiTai knew Hadre was right. She didn’t need Voorus on her
side now that he’d confirmed her suspicions, but it was stupid and careless to
make an enemy of a man who could be on the verge of a moral revelation.

She leaned against the table and sipped the rum Hadre had
meant for Voorus. There was less of a chance that it would be poisoned.

“I promised a story. Get comfortable, gentlemen.”

Hadre watched her with quiet expectation. Voorus leaned back
against the wall. He motioned for her to continue. She almost spoke, but then
glanced between the men. Something familiar about them opened a new avenue of
thought. While she didn’t think all Thampurians looked the same, the
similarities between Kyam and Voorus had struck her before. Now she saw a
resemblance between Hadre and Voorus.

Before she could stop herself from veering off her plan, she
asked, “Voorus, why were you exiled to Ponong?”

“Lady QuiTai! That isn’t a question one asks,” Hadre said.

“It isn’t a question
a Thampurian asks, but I’m not worried about your precious pride. Voorus?”

He shrugged. “I
wouldn’t tell you if I knew. What does that have to do with anything?”

Hadre looked
uncomfortable. He wouldn’t look at her.

“Does it have
anything to do with the current situation, Hadre?”

Voorus sat up.
“Wait! He knows? How could he know?”

Hadre took intense
interest in the drink in his hand. “No,” he finally said.

“Tell me!” Voorus’
face grew pink.

QuiTai watched them. She was even more convinced of the
connection now. Something was unfolding, but if Hadre said it had no bearing,
she’d believe him.

“Leave it, Voorus.” Hadre gestured to QuiTai. “She has
something she wants to tell us.”

“I have a right to know.”

She swore she could sense Grandfather Zul’s hand in this.
Who else could put Hadre into such a wrestling match with his conscience?

~ ~ ~

QuiTai organized her thoughts. She’d allowed this
interesting thread to lead her off her path. It was probably nothing more than
one of those prickly matters of Thampurian face-saving. They worked themselves
into such a state over silly secrets. Sinking into their little domestic
intrigues was like getting mud on your sandals. It only slowed you down.
Greater danger deserved her full attention.

“The story, gentlemen, as promised. After the last great war
between the Ravidians and Thampurians, an ambitious Thampurian looked at a map
of the Sea of Erykoli and realized that even with the Ravidians beaten back to
their southern harbor and their Erykoli fleet utterly destroyed, the
continental market offered limited opportunities. Vast, yes, and rich, but it
wasn’t enough for him. And even though the Ravidian’s sea power had been
curbed, they had harbors on the Te’Am Ocean , giving them access to the rest of
the world, while the Thampurians were limited into the Sea of Erykoli. He wanted
to beat the Ravidians to those markets across the Te’Am. All he needed was a
portal to reach them. An ocean portal, since sea dragons don’t care to march
across dirt.”

“The Ponong Fangs,” Hadre said, as if the thought had just
occurred to him.

“He could have
sailed around the Ponong archipelago, but it took a long time and there were
few outer islands with fresh water or food, and fewer places where an
ocean-going junk could harbor. So he explored the archipelago until he found
his portal, the Ponong Fangs.” She inclined her head to Hadre. “The only deep
water passage through the archipelago to the Te’Am Ocean. The only problem was
that it was seemingly impassible. The currents are strong and can shift in
seconds. The monolith stones a captain can see are nothing compared to the ones
lurking under the waves. None of that stopped him. He lost three ships –”

“Four,” Hadre said.
“But how did you –”

“I have sources of
information beyond this island.” She didn’t want to get into that. “So, he lost
four ships in his quest to chart a safe passage through the Fangs. Such
tenacity. If his success hadn’t been so disastrous for my people, I’d admire
him.”

Voorus looked bored.

“Stay with us, Captain. I’m not relating this history for my
amusement,” QuiTai said.

“Or for mine,” Voorus said.

She smiled weakly at him before continuing. “He charted the
passage, and suddenly he alone had the key to the portal. The outside world and
all its markets were his to trade with. The problem, of course, was that he’d
wrecked four ships, and the partners in his joint venture demanded he make good
on those losses, especially since he refused to share the chart of the Fangs
with them. The harbor in Ponong was perfect for ocean-crossing vessels, but
unless one were sailing through the Ponong Fangs, there was no reason to come
to it. His charts were for Zul ships only – proprietary information
– so only Zul ships came to Ponong, and he couldn’t very well charge his
family to use the harbor. Not to mention that he didn’t own it.”

Her temper rose as it always did when she thought about the
theft of her home, but it was of no use now.

“Other than fresh water and food, there wasn’t much he found
worth trading for on Ponong. Worse, he was buying goods from the natives, not
selling to them. He tried exporting fruits and cloth back to Thampur, but the
fruit spoiled during the trip, and Thampur is too cold for our thin sarongs.
Then he saw a jellylantern. Inexpensive lighting was valuable. Even though he’d
cut the sailing time to and from the Li Islands by a month or more, juam nut
oil was still pricy. Worse, it was dangerous, especially on board a wooden
ship. Imagine the market potential on Thampurian vessels alone for
jellylanterns, much less every dark hovel across the continent! So he brought a
private army to Ponong, took over, and magnificently handed the charter to the
king to make sure no jealousies arose. That’s how Ponong became a royal
colony.”

“Everyone knows this. I mean, not that a Zul did it. I
thought the king was behind it. But why does it matter?” Voorus asked.

“Just to remind you of the very personal interest
Grandfather Zul takes in Ponong. He got his first taste of real power here, and
I’m sure he liked it. For the first years of the colony, he was the governor.
No Thampurian really wanted to come here, but there were business
opportunities, so the thirteen families got into the habit of shipping over
their embarrassments to get them out of the way while still establishing their
interests. That in turn got embarrassing for Grandfather Zul, as he was no
remittance man. He’d made the Zul clan the most powerful and richest clan among
the thirteen families. Rumor has it that his personal fortune exceeds the
king’s. So over fifty-five years ago he turned over control of the island to Governor
Turyat and went back home to take his place at the head of the Zul clan –
and, more importantly, as the right hand of the king. He couldn’t sit on the
throne, but he could have the nearest thing to royal power.”

“Lady QuiTai! Please!”

“If you find the truth offensive, Hadre, think for a moment
how terrible it is for the Ponongese. Your patriarch is a man of business who
epitomizes the Thampurian ideal. My people lost sovereignty, land, and justice
in the deal. Don’t expect me to admire your grandfather’s accomplishments
without mentioning the cost.”