Robert Redick - The Rats and the Ruling sea

Pathkendle is staring at Thasha Isiq, said a male ixchel above him.

Pazel jumped, and dropped his candle underfoot. The other two ixchel began to scold the man. Pathkendle can hear us, you silly ass, said Diadrelu.

Pazel scooped up his candle. 'Sorry, Thasha,' he muttered.

'Now look here, mistress,' said Druffle suddenly. 'Just by gathering we've put ourselves in danger, even in this devil's washtub in the dead of night. So I'll be blunt, shall I? This is hopeless, or nearly hopeless. Who are we to think we can take on these bastards? Ten malcontents, against eight hundred enemies. Of which one hundred are blary Imperial commandos.'

'One hundred and nine,' put in Khalmet, 'with the reinforcements from Bramian.'

'Rin's gizzard, it just gets worse!' said Druffle. 'Turachs, Ott's spies, that serpent of a mage. How are we supposed to take 'em all on? We'd have a better chance of stopping an avalanche!'

'If that's your verdict, why'd you come here?' asked Fiffengurt testily.

Druffle looked sidelong at the quartermaster. 'I owe my life to these two,' he said, looking at Pazel and Neeps, "and I'll give it for them, if the time comes. But that doesn't mean I want to hasten the day.'

'Nobody does,' said Thasha. 'But we're getting ahead of ourselves. We're not about to march on the quarterdeck, Mr Druffle. The point of this council, if you want to call it that, is to come up with a next step. One that doesn't get us killed by morning. Of course Mr Druffle's right about the odds. Whatever we do, we'll need more people to do it.'

'Then let's start with some names,' said Dastu. 'Are there others you trust?'

A moment's silence ensued. 'There have to be,' said Thasha at last, 'but choosing them may be the hardest thing we ever do. For the moment, trust me. There are more than you think.'

She's right, said Diadrelu.

'And the next step is to find more people, Dastu,' said Pazel. "But when we do, we're going to need to be able to tell them we have some sort of a plan.'

Big Skip shook his head slowly. 'I've been worrying over that one,' he said. 'A plan the crew might stand up and support has to do one thing. It has to keep 'em alive. You want to beat these villains? Scuttle the ship. Wreck her. Drive her onto a lee shore, if we ever see land again. Or sail her right into the Vortex. But most folk don't want to die, see? Where's the plan that gets 'em off this ship alive?'

Fiffengurt leaned forwards. In a whisper, he said, 'We could fill a crate with powder charges, and blast this ship's belly wide open. The ten of us could handle that.'

His hand shook as he drew it across his face. Pazel looked at him, aghast. Had it really come to this?

'No,' Pazel heard himself saying, 'not yet. I don't think Ramachni wants us to kill ourselves. And I think the Nilstone might be a danger to this world even at the bottom of the sea.'

'Then what is our plan?' said Neeps. 'What are we going to tell the next ten people we try to recruit for this mutiny?'

No one moved, no one breathed. Neeps had said it, the hangman's word, the word from which there was no turning back. Suddenly Pazel realised the terrible danger they were in. All it would take is one of them to panic. To get up and try to leave right now. We could stop him, but not quietly enough. If anyone moves, we hang.

The one who moved was Fiffengurt — but only to hook Neeps around the neck with his elbow, like a fond uncle. The quartermaster turned his good eye this way and that, and he smiled a mad, anxious, damn-em-all-to-the-deep-depths smile.

'Here's a plan for you, blast it. We work our backsides off for Captain Rose. We give two hundred per cent, and we're humble about it. We warm their blary hearts with our good natures, see? And we sail this Grey Lady safe across the Nelluroq.'

'All the while recruiting,' whispered Pazel.

'Bullseye,' said Fiffengurt. 'And when we've brought the Chathrand into whatever sheltered harbour awaits us on the far side, what'll we have? A fighting chance to turn the rest of 'em — or at least enough of 'em — to rush the boats. We desert, like rats. If necessary we battle our way to shore. And we refuse to come within five miles of the Chathrand until they hand over the Shaggat, nailed up tight in a crate where that damnable Stone can't kill anybody.'

'And drive off Arunis at the point of a spear,' said Druffle, 'or drive a spear through 'im. Keep talking, Quartermaster.'

'We would have to scatter across the land,' said Khalmet, 'else the Turachs could rout us with a single charge.'

'Oppo, Lieutenant, whatever you say.' Fiffengurt was growing excited. 'They can rage and spout and murder us — I'm sure they'll do a lot of all three — but they can't sail the Great Ship without a crew, now, can they? And it beats dying in gods-forsaken Gurishal.'

'We'd have to win over hundreds of men,' said Thasha doubtfully.

'Three hundred, I figure,' said Fiffengurt. 'With that many we'll have taken a big enough bite out of the crew to make handlin' the mains impossible. The Great Ship won't be going anywhere, until we say so.'

They had all leaned closer as Fiffengurt spoke. Pazel glanced from face to candlelit face, and sighed with relief. No one was backing out. The deadly moment had passed.

'Thasha,' said Marila suddenly, 'if you're going to do it-'

'Yes,' said Thasha, 'it's time.'

With all eyes upon her, she passed Marila her candle, and began to unbuckle the suitcase. What is this? the ixchel were muttering, what's she doing, mistress, what's in the case? Pazel waited just as anxiously, and just as much at a loss.

The buckles freed, Thasha looked up at the ring of faces. 'Except for Big Skip, you were all aboard when Arunis attacked,' she said. 'And except for Marila, who was still in hiding, you saw what happened.'

'Gods below, lass, we'll never forget it,' said Fiffengurt.

'You saw Ramachni. You know he's our leader, a mage as good as Arunis is evil. And maybe you've figured out that after that fight he… couldn't stay.'

'He was hurt,' Neeps interjected. 'Exhausted, like. He had to go back where he came from, to rest.'

'You mean he got off the boat in Simja?' said Druffle.

'No, Mr Druffle,' said Thasha. 'He's from farther away than that.'

She raised the lid of the suitcase, and there, packed carefully between folded sweaters, was the mariner's clock. The instrument was standing upright, the second hand sweeping noiselessly over the exquisite mother-of-pearl moon that was its face. Pazel started from his crate. Neeps and Marila looked at him and laughed, and Thasha's smile said Serves you right, bastard. Pazel didn't care. They could laugh at him for the rest of his life.

'Thasha!' he gasped, euphoric.

His self-discipline had vanished. She was looking into his eyes and knew everything — or knew at least what he felt for her, despite all the weeks he'd spent trying to deny it.

Fiffengurt too appeared light-headed with joy. 'Sweet Heaven's Tree! Does this mean-'

'Yes,' said Neeps, 'it does.'

'What they're so happy about,' said Marila, 'is that it's time for Ramachni to come back.'

'You knew!' said Pazel. 'All three of you! How?'

'I'll only know when he jumps into my arms,' said Thasha, but her eyes were shining with confidence. 'I've had this feeling for weeks. A feeling that someone was coming, someone different from any of us, and that everything would change when he got here. It's just like the feeling I got when Ramachni sent me the message in the galley. But this time instead of needing an onion, I need to open that clock.'

'What for?' said Dastu. 'It doesn't look broken to me.'

Thasha grinned at him. 'No,' she said, 'I don't think it is.'

With that she bent down and opened the clock's glass cover. Around and around she spun the minute hand, until the clock read precisely 7:09. 'Now we wait three minutes,' she said.