The Voyage of the Unquiet Ice (8 page)

Dow, who'd only ever known Diego to be haughty and disdainful, was surprised by the lieutenant's tone – for once he sounded earnest and excited. The pair had now come to the railing that Dow had just left, and turned to look out at the lights of the armada.

‘And that's not the best part,' Diego went on. ‘The messenger also brought a letter from my uncle, requesting that Vincente grant me leave so that I can join the Valdez fleet – and Vincente had no choice but to agree. A boat is coming for me at dawn. But it's not just leave – the truth is I'm never coming back to this wretched ship at all. My uncle wants me to take an ambassadorial post on the
Twelfth Kingdom.
Can you believe it? I'll be there tomorrow in the Great Hall with the Valdez delegation.'

Nell – gazing out at the shifting lights – cut a calmer figure, her hands, as ever, thrust deep within her coat. ‘An ambassadorial post? So you'll be serving on the
Kingdom
from now on, not a ship?'

Diego straightened a little. ‘What's wrong with that? You know I can't stay on the
Chloe
forever. I won't get anywhere patrolling backwaters like New Island. I have to make a name for myself.'

Her response was cool. ‘Of course you must leave the
Chloe –
but what name can you make sitting in an ambassador's chair? It is captains who gain fame for their deeds upon the seas, not ambassadors.'

‘Oh – well, it's only for a year or so. My uncle has promised me a first-officer position after that – and then soon enough my own ship. Mine won't be a desk-bound career. You know that. But in the meantime, the
Kingdom
is where true power lies, not off in the wilds of the ocean. How can serving close to that power, especially after tomorrow, harm my prospects?'

Nell sighed. ‘It can't, I suppose …'

‘And then once I have my own command, you can follow.'

She glanced up at him. ‘Oh yes? A lot might change between now and then. There are many fine ladies upon the
Kingdom.
'

Diego laughed. ‘There's no danger of that. In fact – if you doubt me – how about this? You too will be in the Great Hall tomorrow, so between sessions I will introduce you formally to my uncle.'

The offer caught Nell by surprise, it seemed to Dow. She shuddered uneasily. ‘I don't think he'll want to meet
me
.'

‘Why not?'

‘Think. How can he?' Her question was light, but tinged with severity. ‘He'll be the first to tell you that you're only doing yourself harm, trifling with a girl so far below your station.'

‘I'm not
trifling,
' Diego responded, with a heat and sincerity that Dow disliked greatly. ‘And anyway, he knows as well as I do where you come from. Your background is entirely suitable.'

But the self-judgement in Nell was unremitting. ‘Once, maybe. But not now.' And her hand, freed from its pocket, traced a line on her face, as if following the scars there, hidden by the dark.

Diego bent closer to her. ‘You know I've never cared about that,' he said hoarsely, and now the devotion was plain in his voice, no matter how much Dow did not want to hear it. ‘Nothing ever changed for me. You were the one who went away, remember – and you're the one who won't give me a final answer even now, after all I've promised. If my uncle disapproves, let him. He'll owe me whatever I want when this is all over.'

‘It's never been done,' Nell said stubbornly.

‘Why should that matter to us?' And now Diego sounded more like his usual arrogant self. ‘Traditions and taboos are for the lowly in life. The powerful can do what they like. And once my uncle has had his way, then no one will dare attack his nephew.
Or
his nephew's wife.'

Her head lifted. ‘Even if we defy not one age-old custom, but
two
, the second as unheard of as the first?'

‘Even then. I've sworn it, haven't I?'

She took a fierce, almost hungry breath – but then she sagged, and stared back out into the rain. ‘It's hard to believe.'

‘Trust me. Tomorrow, you'll see the beginning of it.'

‘Tomorrow,' Nell pondered, shaking her head, and Dow – his heart in a storm of confusion – sensed a deep reluctance in her yet. ‘What about the report Vincente will make to the Lords?'

Diego shrugged. ‘He's too popular with the captains and kings of the minor realms – and too close to the Sea Lord. He would lead action against us, if not stripped of his command. Luckily, this idiocy about the attack at Stone Port gives us the perfect chance to discredit him.'

‘But won't it be your word against his?'

‘It'll be everyone's word against his – except for the simpleton boy, if he actually has the nerve to repeat his lies in front of the Lords.'

‘He's certainly ignorant,' Nell mused, and to hear, Dow lent forward as far as he dared. ‘But he's no simpleton, and no coward either.'

‘He's irrelevant. We'll be rid of him soon enough.'

‘I wonder. Things
happen
around him. What are we to make, after all, of an omen like an Ice Albatross?'

‘Superstition.'

‘Am I not a scapegoat?' was her answer. ‘What recourse do I have, other than to superstition?'

‘You have me. And that's why you'll say yes – because I'm the only one who can give you what you want.'

And so saying, Diego took her by the arm, and led her away out of the shadows, back towards the officers' realm of the stern castle.

3. THE ELEVEN KINGS

T
he next morning, as Dow breakfasted with Johannes and Nicky, a midshipman poked his head through the fire curtain and announced that Dow was to report immediately to Captain Vincente on the main deck.

‘This will be your summons to the
Twelfth Kingdom,'
said Johannes. His manner grew abruptly solemn and he stood, offering his hand to Dow. ‘Good luck to you upon that monstrous ship, Dow Amber.'

Dow shook his hand, and then Nicky's too, puzzled by the sudden formality of the pair – it was unlike them – but perhaps they were just nervous on his behalf. He was certainly nervous himself. He shrugged on his timberman's jacket, and made his way topside.

The morning that greeted him was grey and dull, but not cold. Indeed, even though this was the first day of winter, the air of the Millpond was strangely humid and clinging. Glancing out across the flat sea Dow saw that the magical armada of the night before had become a clutter of becalmed ships, drear and colourless with their sails furled and banners all hanging limp. Only the
Twelfth Kingdom
at their centre still held the eye, a louring presence that rendered all its attendant vessels toylike.

At the
Chloe's
railing, sailors were labouring to launch one of the ship's boats, and it was here that Dow found Captain Vincente. Waiting with the captain were Commander Fidel and – Dow was somewhat disturbed to see – the smaller figure of the scapegoat girl.

Both the officers were in full ceremonial uniform, but it was Nell who struck Dow most. She had put aside her men's clothing and, for the second time in Dow's knowledge of her, was attired in a dress. This one, like the other Dow had seen her wearing, was long sleeved and high-necked, but whereas the first dress had been black, this one was darkest purple.

‘Ah, Mr Amber,' said Vincente, as Dow came up.

‘Excellency,' Dow returned, saluting.

‘Or I should say,
Seaman
Amber. You are to be congratulated. And with no less a witness to your success than an Ice Albatross.'

The words were amiable, but the captain's gaze was probing. Dow said nothing. He had not spoken with Vincente in over a month, and was disconcerted now, as always, by the sheer authority of the man, for all that the captain was short, and pot-bellied. And yet – as Dow had overheard the previous night – that authority was not unchallenged, or without enemies.

‘At ease, Dow,' Vincente said at last. ‘I've called for you because we are about to embark for the
Twelfth Kingdom
and the opening session of the Lords of the Fleet. There I will report upon the events at Stone Port, and you will accompany me, if you're willing.'

Dow's eyes strayed to the mighty ship, a mile away across the sheet-like waters. Did it seem more ominous to him now, rather than magnificent? ‘Aye, Excellency.'

Vincente smiled, mistaking Dow's look. ‘Aye, the
Twelfth Kingdom
is a wonder, no doubt, but don't get too carried away by its size and splendour. What matters is not the vessel itself, but rather what happens within its Great Hall. I don't want you too overcome with awe to speak when you stand before the eleven kings. So – is your memory clear as to what you saw that night?'

Dow didn't need to think, the vision of the strange boat moving inexplicably through the Rip was as vivid to him now as when he'd first seen it. ‘Aye, Excellency. Perfectly clear.'

‘Good. We'll cast off as soon as the boat is ready.' He inclined his head. ‘Commander Fidel will be joining us – and Nell too, for it's customary for captains to bring their scapegoats to such councils.'

Dow glanced at Nell and caught her frowning as she stared at the captain. She did not, he guessed, like the word
customary,
implying as it did that if not for custom Vincente would not be taking her. It reminded Dow of his sole conversation with Nell to date, that day at the stern rail as New Island had dropped below the horizon – she had complained that the captain only pretended to consult her as scapegoat, and seldom heeded her advice.
He trusts
only fellow mariners, and only men can be mariners
...

Might that be why Nell was so intimate with Diego, an enemy of the captain's? And how intimate were they anyway? Dow had replayed the previous night's exchange a dozen times in his head, and he still wasn't sure. Diego's attachment had been obvious – but her emotions had been less clear. The whole affair indeed had possessed undertones that Dow simply hadn't understood; although the fact that Diego would be leaving the
Chloe
– had already left, actually – was some comfort.

Yes … but Diego had also said of Dow,
We'll be rid of
him soon enough.
And what might
that
mean?

The boat was launched and a crew of six rowers took their places at the oars, then Vincente, Fidel, Dow and Nell – the hem of her dress causing her all sorts of difficulties – descended the ladder to their seats. The captain and the first officer took the stern-most bench, while Dow and Nell sat side by side in front of them. With a shove they were underway, drawing swiftly out from the shadow of the
Chloe's
hull and sweeping across the glassy sea towards the
Twelfth Kingdom.

‘You realise, Mr Amber,' said Vincente after they had travelled some distance, ‘that you will be the first of your kind in generations to set foot upon the Sea Lord's vessel. I doubt that it's happened since the Great War. Moreover, the tale of your riding of the maelstrom has been running like wildfire through the fleet, ever since yesterday. You must prepare yourself to be the centre of some attention when the Lords lay eyes on you.'

At Dow's side Nell stirred, shooting a look behind her. ‘Attention, Captain? You're taking a New Island peasant to stand and speak before the Lords of the Fleet and you expect he will merely draw
attention
? It will cause outrage. Your enemies have long been looking for an excuse to have you divested of your command – you know that – and yet here you are breaking the very strictest of the Settlement laws, right before their eyes.'

Vincente's good humour vanished. ‘Such matters, Ignella, are not for your comment. If I need advice
off-ship
, then I'll consult someone older and wiser than a girl of seventeen years, scapegoat or not.'

Nell seemed to inflate with frustration, then the fire in her eyes went dull. ‘Aye, sir,' she said flatly.

There was a silence, but Dow – pushed so close to Nell that their arms touched with every surge of the oars – could feel the anger taut in her. And he realised that she was not angry
at
Vincente, but, in some complex way, angry
for
him – annoyed that he did not take the forces opposed to him more seriously. And yet her suitor was one of those forces! So where did her loyalty really lie? With Diego? Or with her captain?

Should Dow speak up himself to warn Vincente? But what could he say?
‘This idiocy about the attack at Stone Port
gives us the perfect chance to discredit him,
Diego had boasted last night. But what did that indicate exactly? And anyway, the captain surely knew his own business.

Dow said nothing, only stared forward to where the
Twelfth Kingdom,
in all its splendour and majesty, was drawing close.

The size of the thing! Its great hull rose from the sea like a cliff of glistening stone, and its towers reared even higher above, like mountain crags. And every approach was guarded, for the vessel's manifold gunports had all been thrown open and its thousand cannon all run out, ready to obliterate any ship so foolish as too attack such indomitable might.