Robert Redick - The Night of the Swarm

‘Dignity,’ said Chadfallow.

He spoke the word softly, but it still conveyed the bitterness of a lifetime. Captain Kurlstaff, breaking his silence, said, ‘I like this doctor, Rose. But the spymaster wants him dead.’

‘Hold your peace, Ott,’ said Rose. ‘I have not brought you here to bicker like tarboys.’ He turned to Fiffengurt, and barked suddenly: ‘Where in the Black Pits is the first mate? Did I summon my deck officers or not?’

‘I conveyed your order to Stukey myself, Captain,’ said Fiffengurt. ‘He only grunted at me through his door.’

‘Uskins missed his noon log entry as well, sir,’ put in Mr Fegin, who had recently been promoted to the rank of bosun. ‘Perhaps he’s ill?’

Rose looked at the doctors, who shrugged. ‘He’s not been to sickbay,’ said Chadfallow.

The captain’s fury was a live coal in his chest. ‘Find the duty clerk, Mr Fegin,’ he said, very low. ‘Tell him to inform Mr Uskins that if he is not here within three minutes he will be tied to the mizzenmast with a vat of excrement from the chicken coops, and not released until he drinks it.’ He paused, then shouted: ‘Go!’

Fegin was off like a greyhound. The captain spread his hands flat on the table, glaring at the faces around him. ‘Why do ships sink?’ he asked them. ‘Imprecision, that is why. Laxity and sloth, and men who look the other way. That will never be while I command this ship.’

He took care not to glance at Sandor Ott. But a part of him knew that his words were for the spy, a reminder of what Rose alone could deliver.

‘We are being hunted, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘In all likelihood that sorceress has reached Masalym by now, and learned that we have fled. Whether or not she realises that we don’t have the Nilstone, she’ll want to take us — and she has the right ship for the job. The Kirisang , also known as the Death’s Head . The vessel’s every bit as large as the Chathrand , and a warship through and through. Or so Prince Olik claimed. Of course I do not trust him, or any other dlomu. But we have seen Bali Adro firepower for ourselves.’

He gave them a moment to remember it: the horrific armada that had passed so near them, great squalid ships held together by spellcraft, bristling with terrible arms.

‘Now take heart, for Arunis is dead. Lady Oggosk sensed it, and the Shaggat’s return to life is the proof. He is gone, and the Nilstone is gone, and the ship is both provisioned and repaired. You may have heard that there was a hairline crack in the keel-’

They had not heard: Fiffengurt and Elkstem gaped, struggling to contain themselves.

‘-but I assure you that rumour is false: no ship of mine will ever touch the Nelluroq with a damaged keel. No, the Chathrand will not disappoint us. The sorcerer is gone, and if any crawlies remain, we shall deal with them as with any vermin.

‘In short, gentlemen, we are done with the South. The last stage of this mission lies before us. We must find our way to Gurishal. The Shaggat must go to his tribe, to wreak havoc in the heartland of the Mzithrin. Only then will we be suffered to return to Arqual, and our families.’

Ott and Haddismal looked deeply content. The others showed varying degrees of confusion. ‘But sir,’ said Fiffengurt, ‘ain’t it nearly time to land our men on the Sandwall? We talked about it just yesterday. Men with mirrors, to relay the all-clear signal from Masalym, when it comes.’

‘We will be landing no one on the Sandwall,’ said Rose.

‘How, then,’ said Chadfallow, ‘are we to know when Macadra has left the city, and what course she is on?’

‘I say again, no need.’

‘But I don’t understand, Captain,’ said Fiffengurt. ‘How will we know when it’s safe to return for Pazel and Thasha and the others? Can Lady Oggosk tell you that as well?’

‘Oggosk has nothing to tell me in this regard,’ said Rose, ‘because we are not going back.’

The explosion was just as he had foreseen. Chadfallow and Fiffengurt rose, shouting in rage. ‘You wouldn’t dare, Captain!’ thundered the quartermaster. ‘Leave them behind? How can you even jest about such a thing?’

‘I make no jests,’ said Rose.

‘You will not do it!’ shouted Chadfallow. ‘What’s more, you dare not. The Nilstone-’

‘-is in Hercol’s hands,’ said Ott, ‘or perhaps those of the Masalym Guard who rode with him. In either case we can do nothing about it. Believe me, I hate to leave a thing of such power unclaimed. It would be a great joy to present it to our Emperor.’

Chadfallow was gaping. Fiffengurt was nearly out of his head. He stepped towards Rose, hands in fists. Sergeant Haddismal, grinning, merely seized his arm. Ott was watching Chadfallow with lively curiosity. Neither the spy nor the Turach bothered to stand up.

‘This is unthinkable,’ said Chadfallow, shaking with rage. ‘Even for you, Rose. We gave you our trust.’

‘Oh, Doctor, you’re priceless,’ laughed Sandor Ott. ‘You gave nothing of the kind. Tell the truth, old man: you never expected to see them again. You knew they were choosing exile among the fish-eyes for the rest of their days — indeed, that that was the best possible outcome for the ardent fools, and far from the most likely. I’m not calling you a coward, sir. You might even have joined them, if I’d allowed it, for you’re quite fond of your family of criminals. But of course I could not allow it. We have over seven hundred men left to care for, and no doctor but you, save that, that-’

He gestured vaguely at Rain, whose eyes tracked his moving hand, befuddled. Ott and Haddismal roared with laughter.

‘Prince Olik’s brief rule in Masalym will already have ended,’ said Rose, speaking over them. ‘Macadra will likely kill the man, if she can do so quietly enough. In any case, she will replace him with one of her servants. Ott is correct, Doctor: you knew from the start that we would not return. So did your friends who went ashore, in their hearts.’

‘You yourself planned to go with them,’ said Chadfallow, staring rigidly at Rose. ‘What if Ott had allowed you to join the expedition? Do you think for one instant that if Mr Fiffengurt had taken command, he would have abandoned you?’

‘Ott did not prevent me going ashore,’ said Rose.

At that Spengler paused in his rummaging, and spat. ‘You’re a liar, Rose. He hog-tied you. You should boot that spy’s arse right over the rail.’

‘Pointless speculation,’ said Ott. ‘I would have compelled Fiffengurt to sail on, whatever his preference might have been. No, our dalliance with traitors has run its course. If there was any justification for their presence aboard, it lay in their efforts to thwart Arunis and drive him from the ship. That work is done, but His Supremacy’s great task is not.’

Fiffengurt’s face had turned so scarlet that Rose half expected to see blood filling the whites of his eyes. Chadfallow was restraining him by force. The doctor’s jaw was clenched, as if words he dared not utter were caught between his teeth. He drew a deep, shaky breath. ‘Sandor Ott,’ he said, ‘you’re a man of immense talents, immense energies and strength.’

Smiling broadly, as though preparing for a grand entertainment, Ott leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head.

‘You are the personification of commitment,’ the doctor continued. ‘That I would never deny, although I differ with your choice of loyalties. You might have grown very rich, without ever leaving Etherhorde; you might have settled for exploiting your office. You did not. You chose one task and pursued it selflessly, and with skills like no other man alive. I say all this because I wish you to know that I am not blinded by the animosity between us.’