Red Seas Under Red Skies: The Gentleman Bastard Sequence, Book Two (Gentleman Bastards 2)

‘I’ll do my best.’

‘Your, ah, deduction about Jerome and myself is commendable. It does make sense, but for the parts that I’ve concealed until now. Starting with myself. I’m not a trained fighter. I’m a bloody miserable fighter. I have tried to be otherwise, but the gods know, it’s always comedy or tragedy before I can blink.’

‘That—’

‘Zamira. Heed this. I didn’t kill four men with anything resembling skill. I dropped a beer-cask on a man too dumb to look up. I slit the throats of two more who were knocked aside by the cask. I did the fourth when he slipped in beer. When everyone else found the bodies, I let them make their own assumptions.’

‘But I know for a fact that you charged those Redeemers all by yourself—’

‘Yes. People who are about to die frequently go out of their minds. I should have died ten seconds into that fight, Zamira. It was Jerome who made it otherwise. Jerome and only Jerome.’

At that moment, a loud cheer abruptly rose above the noise of the near-carnival at the ship’s waist. Locke and Zamira both turned in time to see Jean appear at the top of the quarterdeck stairs with Lieutenant Delmastro in his arms. Neither of them so much as glanced aft at Locke and the captain; a few seconds later they were vanishing down the companionway.

‘Well,’ said Zamira, ‘to win that heart, even for a night, your friend Jerome must be even more extraordinary than I thought.’

‘He is extraordinary,’ Locke whispered. ‘He continues to save my life, time and time again, even when I don’t deserve it.’ He returned his gaze to the Orchid’s roiling, glowing, monster-haunted wake. ‘Which is always, more or less.’

Zamira said nothing, and after a few moments Locke continued, ‘Well, after he did it again this morning, I slipped and fumbled and ran like hell until the fight was over. That’s all. Panic and dumb luck.’

‘You still led the boats. You still went up first, not knowing what was waiting for you.’

‘All bullshit. I’m a bullshit artist, Zamira. A false-facer. An actor, an impersonator. I didn’t have any noble motives when I made that request. My life just wasn’t worth much if I didn’t do something utterly crazy to win back some respect. I faked every second of composure anyone glimpsed this morning.’

‘The fact that you consider that extraordinary only tells me that it really was your first actual battle.’

‘But—’

‘Ravelle, anyone in command feigns ease when death is near. We do it for those around us, and we do it for ourselves. We do it because the sole alternative is to die cringing. The difference between an experienced leader and an untested one is that only the untested one is shocked at how well they can pretend when their hand is forced.’

‘I don’t believe this,’ said Locke. ‘When I first came aboard, I couldn’t impress you enough to make you spit in my face. Now you’re making my excuses for me. Zamira, Jerome and I never worked for the Priori. I’ve never even met a Priori except in passing. The fact is that we’re still working for Maxilan Stragos as we speak.’

‘What?’

‘Jerome and I are thieves. Professional, independent thieves. We came to Tal Verrar on a very delicate job of our own design. The Archon’s . . . intelligence services figured out who and what we are. Stragos poisoned us, a latent poison for which only he can supply the antidote. Until we get it or secure some other remedy, we’re his puppets.’

‘To what possible end?’

‘Stragos handed us the Red Messenger, allowed us to take a crew from the Windward Rock and built up a parchment trail concerning an imaginary disgruntled officer named Orrin Ravelle. He gave us our sailing master - the one whose heart seized on us just before we hit the storm - and sent us out here on his business. That’s how we got the ship. That’s how we tweaked Stragos’s nose in such an unlikely fashion. All was to his design.’

‘What’s he after? Someone in Port Prodigal?’

‘He wants the same thing you gave him last time you crossed paths. He’s all but at war with the Priori, and he’s feeling his years. If he’s going to seize anything resembling popularity ever again, the time is now. He needs an enemy outside the city to bring his army and navy back into favour. That’s you, Zamira. Nothing would be more convenient for Stragos than a wider outbreak of piracy near his city in the next few months.’

‘Which is exactly why the Brass Sea captains have avoided going anywhere near Tal Verrar for the last seven years! We learned our lesson the bitter way. If he comes looking for a brawl, we’ll duck and run before we’ll grant him one.’

‘I know. And so does he. Our job - our mandate - is to find some way to stir up trouble down here regardless. To get you to fly the red flag close enough for common Verrari to see it from the public outhouses.’

‘How the hell did you ever plan on accomplishing this?’

‘I had some half-arsed idea to spread rumours, offer bribes. If you hadn’t hit the Messenger, I would have tried to kindle a mess myself. But that was before we had any hint as to the real state of things out here. Now Jerome and I obviously need your help.’

‘To do what?’

‘To buy time. To convince Stragos that we’re succeeding on his behalf.’

‘If you think for one second that I’ll do anything to aid the Archon—’

‘I don’t,’ said Locke, ‘and if you think for one second that I truly mean to aid him, you haven’t been listening. Stragos’s antidote is supposedly good for two months. That means Jerome and I must be in Tal Verrar in five weeks to get another sip. And if we have no progress to claim, he may simply decide to fold his investment in us.’

‘If you have to leave us to return to Tal Verrar,’ she said, ‘that’s unfortunate. But you can find an independent trader in Port Prodigal; they’re never more than a few days apart. We have arrangements with a number of them that call in at Tal Verrar and Vel Virazzo. You’ll have enough money from your shares to buy passage.’

‘Zamira, you have more wit than this. Listen. I have spoken personally to Stragos several times. Been lectured, is more the word. And I believe him. I believe that this is his last chance to put his foot down on the Priori and truly rule Tal Verrar. He needs an enemy, Zamira. He needs an enemy that he knows he can crush.’

‘Then it would be madness to acquiesce to his plan by provoking him.’

‘Zamira, this fight is coming to you regardless of your intentions. You are all he has. You are the only foe that suits. He’s already sacrificed a ship, a veteran sailing master, a galley crew’s worth of prisoners and a considerable amount of his own prestige just to put Jerome and me in play. As long as we’re out here, as long as you’re helping us, then you’ll know where his plans rest, because we’ll be running them from your ship. If you ignore us, I have no idea what he’ll try next. All I know is that he will have other designs, and you won’t be privy to them.’

‘What good will it do me,’ said Zamira, ‘to play along with you, and rouse Tal Verrar to the point that Stragos achieves his desire? We couldn’t best his fleet seven years ago, with twice our present numbers.’

‘You’re not the weapon,’ said Locke. ‘Jerome and I are the weapons. We have access to Stragos. All we need is an answer to the poison and we’ll turn on the son of a bitch like a scorpion in his breechclout.’

‘For this I dangle my ship, my crew and my children in easy reach of an enemy far beyond my strength?’

‘Zamira, you spoke of the Sea of Brass as though it is a fairy kingdom, infinitely mutable, but you are lashed tight to Port Prodigal and you must know it. I don’t doubt that you could sail for any port in the world and fetch it safely, but could you live anywhere else as you do here? Sell your goods and captured ships as easily? Pay your crew so regularly? Know the waters and your fellow outlaws so well? Lurk in trade lanes half as far from the navy of any great power?’

‘This is the strangest conversation I have had in years,’ said Zamira, returning her hat to her head. ‘And probably the strangest request anyone has ever made of me. I have no way of knowing if anything you say is true. But I know this ship, and how fast she can run, if all else fails. Even if Port Prodigal fails.’

‘That is, of course, one option. Ignore me. Wait until Stragos finds some other way to have his war, or a likeness of a war. And then fly. To some other sea, some harder life. You said yourself you can’t beat the Archon’s navy; you can’t strike at Stragos by force of arms. So consider this - every other choice you have will sooner or later turn into withdrawal and retreat. Jerome and I represent the sole means of attack that you will ever possess. With your help, we could destroy the Archonate for ever.’

‘How?’

‘That’s . . . sort of a work in progress.’

‘Possibly the least reassuring thing you’ve—’

‘If nothing else,’ interrupted Locke, ‘we know that there are powerful forces in Tal Verrar balanced against the Archon. Jerome and I could contact them, involve them somehow. If the Archonate were abolished, the Priori would hold Tal Verrar by the purse-strings. The last thing they’d want is embroilment in a useless war that might create another popular military hero.’

‘Standing here at the stern of my ship, weeks away from Tal Verrar, how can you speak with any certainty of what can be done with that city’s merchants and politicians?’

‘You said yourself that I had a talent for dishonesty. I often think it the only skill I have worthy of recommendation.’

‘But—’

‘Drakasha, this is intolerable!’

Locke and Zamira whirled, once again in unison, to find Scholar Treganne standing at the head of the companionway. She stepped toward them, limping without the support of her cane, and in her out-thrust arms wriggled a chitinous black nightmare, multi-legged and gleaming in the lantern light. A spider the size of a cat. She held it belly outward, and its gleaming fangs twitched indignantly.

‘Dear gods, it certainly is,’ said Locke.

‘Treganne, what the hell is Zekassis doing out of her cage?’

‘Your lieutenant has commenced an assault on the partition between our quarters,’ hissed Treganne. ‘Intolerable noise and commotion! She was lucky to shatter only one cage with all of her knocking about, and luckier still that I was there to restrain this blameless lady—’

‘So . . . wait, you keep that thing in your quarters?’ Locke was relieved to discover that it hadn’t been prowling the ship, but only marginally so.

‘Where do you think woundsilk comes from, Ravelle? Stop flinching; Zekassis is a delicate and timid creature.’

‘Treganne,’ said Drakasha, ‘as a physiker, you must be familiar with the courtship habits of the adult human female.’

‘Yes, but six feet from my head is an insufferable intrusion—’

‘Treganne, in my opinion, interrupting Ezri at the moment would be an insufferable intrusion. The quartermaster’s compartment across the passage is open. Fetch the carpenter to give Zek temporary accommodations, and pitch your hammock in Gwillem’s space.’

‘I shall remember this indignity, Drakasha—’

‘Yes, for approximately ten minutes, until some new vexation arises to claim your full attention.’

‘Should Delmastro do herself some injury through her exertions,’ said Treganne primly, ‘she may find another physiker to serve her needs. And I daresay that she may use her own abdomen to spin silk for her bandages—’

‘I’m sure Ezri’s abdomen is otherwise occupied, Scholar. Please find someone to build that thing a home for the night. You won’t need to say much to convince them of your urgency.’

As Treganne stomped off in a huff with her delicate and timid creature waving its legs in protest, Locke turned back to Zamira with one eyebrow raised.

‘Where did you ever—’

‘The punishment for insolence to the Nicoran royal family is to be hung out to starve in an iron cage. We were in Nicora doing a bit of smuggling; Treganne was hanging there doing a bit of dying. Most of the time I don’t regret cutting her down.’

‘Well. What do you say to my—’

‘Mad proposal?’

‘Zamira, I don’t need you to sail into Tal Verrar harbour. Just give me something to buy another few months of Stragos’s indulgence. Sack a ship or two near Tal Verrar. Quick and easy work. You know Jerome and I will be the first over the side for you. Just . . . let them run for the city and spread a bit of panic. Then send us in one night by boat, let us do our business and we’ll be back with a better idea of how to turn the situation—’

‘Attack ships flying the Verrari flag, then get close enough to the city to let you slip in by boat? Wait at anchor with a five-thousand-solari bounty on my head—’

‘Now that is an injustice, Zamira, whatever else I’ve done to merit suspicion. If Jerome and I merely wanted to slip back to Tal Verrar, why would we have risked our necks in your attack this morning? And if I wanted to continue deceiving you or spying on you, why didn’t I just play along with your conclusion that we were agents of the Priori?

‘Jerome and I quarrelled this morning. If you spoke to Jabril before you pulled me out of your hold, you must know that I’m a divine of the Thirteenth, the Crooked Warden. You’re . . . our people, more or less. Our kind. It’s a matter of propriety. Jerome insisted that we tell you the truth, that we need you as willing allies and not as dupes. I’m ashamed to say that I was too angry to agree. But he was right, and it’s not just fucking sentiment, it’s hard truth. I don’t think Jerome and I can pull this off unless you aid us with full knowledge of what we’re up to. And if you can’t or won’t do that, I think you’ve got a hell of a mess coming your way. Soon.’

Drakasha settled her right hand on the pommel of one of her sabres and closed her eyes, looking tired and vexed.

‘Before anything else,’ she said at last, ‘apart from all other considerations, we need to put in at Port Prodigal. I have cargo to sell, stores to buy, a prize to dispose of and crew to meet up with. We’re several days out, and will be several days there. I will think on what you’ve said. One way or another, I’ll give you an answer after we’ve done our business there.’

‘Thank you.’

‘So it’s really Leocanto, then?’

‘Just keep calling me Ravelle,’ said Locke. ‘Easier for everyone.’

‘Of course. Well, you’re on the Merry Watch and you won’t be shifted back to duty watches until tomorrow afternoon. I suggest you make good use of the night.’

‘Well.’ Locke glanced down at his leather cup of blue wine, suddenly thinking that maybe he could do with a few more, and perhaps a dice game to lose himself in for a few hours. ‘If the gods are kind I already have. Good night, Captain Drakasha.’

He left her alone at the taffrail, silently studying the monster that lurked in the Orchid’s wake.