Lindsay Buroker: Enigma

The captain waited, eyebrows drawn into a V, his fists propped on his hips. “Do you see that, boy?” He pointed at the ships on the horizon, ships that had inched closer in the last few minutes. “Three Nurian warships. Three! What’d you do? Steal the most valuable piece in the collection?”

With nearly a foot of height separating them, Garchee had to look up to meet the captain’s eyes, but he did so, giving the older man a hard stare. “I warned you when I offered to trade the flute for passage that I might be pursued,” he said, speaking in precise but nearly flawless Turgonian. “You saw the ivory, and calculation and greed filled your eyes. I have not… made good decisions myself, but you had the option to turn down my offer.”

A crimson hue suffused the captain’s cheeks as he suffered this lecture. “You said some one might come after you, not the whole slagging Nurian navy!”

The boy’s resolve wavered as he glanced toward the encroaching ships. He looked like he might have an apology in mind, but the captain yanked a knife from his belt, snarling, “I’m going to kill you, you worthless runt!”

Before Tikaya could react, the captain lunged for the boy, murder in his eyes. Rias moved just as quickly. He darted in front of the boy, caught the captain’s wrist, and twisted against the joint. The dagger fell to the deck, landing point first in the wood. Bellowing with rage, the captain yanked his arm free even as he swung at Rias with his other fist.

Rias caught that fist in the air, but didn’t respond with any offensive moves. The mate had sprinted onto the forecastle, a pistol in hand. He aimed it at Rias. The helmsman had also produced a firearm.

Tikaya tried to think of something to do. She stared at the flute in her hand, but feared it’d be useless in this scenario. Even if she’d solved the puzzle, she didn’t know what to play.

“Let’s discuss this, captain,” Rias said. “If you kill the boy, you’ll only make matters worse on all of us.”

“What do you mean?”

The captain yanked his hand back, and Rias let him go. He wasn’t mollified, though, not in the least. He stepped back a few paces and pulled out his own pistol.

Rias stood in the middle of the three men, arms spread, open hands lifted. He nodded toward the ships on the horizon. “Those Nurians will want the flute, yes, but if you don’t have the… person who took it, their captains will assume you stole it.”

As Rias spoke, Garchee eased closer to Tikaya. He met her eyes, pointed to the flute, and held out his hand. Was it possible he knew how to play it? And if he did, what might he be able to do if she gave it to him? She imagined him piping some tune that caused everyone on board, herself and Rias included, to fall unconscious and wait helpless as the Nurians boarded. Someone over there might recognize Rias and kill him before he ever woke again.

The crew’s eyes were locked upon Rias and the captain; nobody was paying attention to Tikaya and the boy.

“If you hand the youth and the flute over to the Nurians,” Rias said, “you can say you were duped and didn’t know anything about the theft.”

Tikaya frowned at his back. Hand over the youth? Even if he was a thief, she bristled at the idea of giving him to a crew of vengeful warriors. If those ships had been sent all the way across the ocean, a multiple-week journey, simply to retrieve the flute, the Nurians would not be happy with the one who had caused the trouble.

“Maybe we’ll tell the Nurians you stole it,” the captain said, nodding to himself and smiling as the idea took root.

Rias didn’t have a response for that. Tikaya wondered if the captain had any idea how much of a threat he’d truly made. If they identified him, the Nurians would do more than simply kill Fleet Admiral Starcrest. They would torture him for information and drag him back to their Great Chief in shackles for some horrific public execution.

Tikaya swallowed. She wasn’t going to let that happen. If nothing else, she could make a distraction, and Rias could leap overboard and swim for the coast. They couldn’t be that far from land.

Garchee touched Tikaya’s arm. “Please.”

She’d almost forgotten him. He could have ripped the flute out of her hand when she hadn’t been paying attention, but he hadn’t. Maybe he wanted to help.

Hoping she wasn’t making a mistake, Tikaya gave him the instrument.

“If you handed me over to the Nurians,” Rias told the captain, “you might be seen as accomplices and punished anyway. It’s likely they know who the true thief is. You could simply claim he’d stowed away.”

Flute to his lips, Garchee played a few notes so softly that Tikaya doubted anyone would notice them over the roar of the ocean. She didn’t recognize the song’s upbeat, cheery notes, but it didn’t sound like something that would knock out a ship full of sailors.

“Whatever.” The captain lowered his pistol and waved for his men to do the same. “We’re not handing the flute over to the Nurians. After all this trouble, and all that money I spent on repairs in Tangukmoo, I’m not doing anything except selling that thing to someone who can afford to pay well. We just have to stay out of reach a little longer. We’re only a few hours out of Port Malevek, and there’s no way Nurian ships are going to sail into that harbor, no matter how many guns they have. They won’t dare come into sight.”

The captain glowered at Tikaya, and she held her breath, expecting a backlash to the boy’s flute playing. “You three get off my deck,” was all he said. “I don’t want to see you again.”

Garchee lowered the flute.

“As you command, Captain.” Rias bowed his head, clasped his hands behind his back, and strolled down the steps with Tikaya and Garchee.

“Thank you for your assistance,” she told the boy, suspecting his tune had helped convince the captain to lower his pistol. Too bad it hadn’t improved his personality as well.

Garchee nodded once. His face held the sad recognition of one who had accepted his fate, however unpleasant. Tikaya hoped they could figure out a way to protect him from the Nurians.

Before they headed below, Rias stopped to gaze back at the ships. Tikaya didn’t like the way his face shared some of the youth’s resignation. They’d have to come up with something. She definitely wasn’t going to give him up to the Nurians. Maybe he could hide in the bilge room when the schooner was boarded. The captain liked to send him there anyway.

“Any chance we can make it to Port Malevek before those ships catch us?” Tikaya asked.

Without so much as glancing at the sails or checking the wind, Rias said, “No.”

“I assume there’s no way this small ship can fight them. Any chance of evading them? Maybe we’ll reach that river and-”

Rias was shaking his head.

Tikaya stepped away from the boy and lowered her voice. “What if you took command? Perhaps we could tell the captain who you are. That might change his willingness to listen to you.”

“There’s little I could do either.”

“Is there anything I could do?” Tikaya asked. It was meant to be a joke, but it didn’t sound very funny when it came out.

“Your people are theists, aren’t they? Perhaps you could pray for a storm or a dense fog.”

Tikaya eyed the clouds. They lacked the ominous darkness of thunderheads, nor did any hint of fog linger in the troughs of the waves. “I haven’t noticed a high success rate amongst those who pray for weather phenomena.”

“Unfortunate,” Rias said. “At least these Nurians shouldn’t have a reason to kill you, not like those assassins we encountered last time. With luck they won’t even know who you are, and they’ll leave you alone.”