James Roy - The Gimlet Eye

‘Good. So, let’s go and get ready for the play.’

With a loud rattle of chains and a heavy grinding groan, the rock opened. The scout-pod, still operating entirely under the magic that Tab had invoked, adjusted its course slightly and headed into the cave-like door that had appeared in the cliff that comprised part of Quentaris’ hull.

Tab barely noticed. She was still weeping for Verris as she half sat, half lay beside Torby.

‘Tab. We’re back,’ Danda said, placing her hand on her shoulder.

‘I don’t care,’ Tab replied, but she looked around anyway. The pod had risen through the tunnel, coming to a stop beside a kind of pier, inside a barn-like room. In the gap between the edge of the pod and the pier she could see the tunnel stretching down, and beyond that the blue of the ocean, far below. The ocean that Verris was still in.

Two men stood waiting, both large, muscled and armed. One looked like he might have had some troll blood in him, several generations back, judging by his wide jaw, low forehead, and stocky legs. The other was an albino, with pure-white hair, freckled skin and pink eyes. Tab didn’t recognise either of them, until they spoke.

‘You’re back,’ said the albino, in a coppery voice. ‘Did you get what you went for?’

‘In the chest,’ Tab spat. ‘Your filthy jewels are in the chest.’

‘And the book? We will need the book back. Can’t leave orders like that lying around the place,’ the albino said.

‘Hold on, where’s the pirate?’ asked the troll, frowning as his eyes scanned the pod. He pointed at Torby in disbelief. ‘You idiots! You left the wrong one behind! You were meant to leave the weakling behind and bring the pirate back!’

‘Is that how you saw it happening?’ asked a familiar voice.

Tab supressed a surprised squeal of delight as she saw Verris appear from the shadows behind the two men. He was armed with a long piece of timber, which he brandished like a quarterstaff.

The men turned, gaped, and drew their swords.

‘What’s this treachery?’ said the albino. ‘Did you get the gems like you were told to?’

‘Oh yes, they’re there all right, in the case, just as Tab said.’

‘And the Yarka let you just… have them, did they?’

‘Not exactly. The thing is, they’re rather more accommodating than we’re led to believe, those Yarka. Very big on honour.’

The men glanced at one another, confused. ‘What are you talking about?’ the half-troll asked.

‘Well the thing is, they’re actually quite trusting. You see, if you promise them something, they tend to take you at your word.’

‘What’s he going on about?’ the albino asked his partner.

‘Let me make it simple for the less intelligent amongst us,’ Verris said, his eyes twinkling. ‘I offered myself up to the Yarka instead of the boy. They were happy with that arrangement. After all, there’s a lot more meat on me than there is on him. But then I got to thinking, there must be someone up in Quentaris who has more meat on him than there is on me.’ Verris’ eyes settled on the half-troll. ‘You’re a big chap, aren’t you?’

‘You’re not serious,’ the albino said.

‘Oh, I’m quite serious. Fortunately the Yarka knew I was quite serious as well, because they took me at my word when I promised them a feast before the sun went down tonight.’

‘You’re wasting time, pirate. Frankly I don’t care what promise you made to that seafood buffet down there, but we’ve got work to do, so get out of the way.’

‘Oh, but I do care about the promises I make,’ Verris said. ‘It’s just the way I was raised.’ Then, with a movement so fast that it was a blur, he sprang forward, disarmed the half-troll with a twist of his quarterstaff, sending him staggering backwards towards the pod. The half-troll’s footing slipped, and he fell between the railing of the pod and the side of the pier, struggled for a moment as he continued to slip, then slid screaming down the tunnel that led to the open air, and the enormous fall to the ocean’s surface.

‘The thing is,’ Verris said as the albino cowered at the edge of the pier, ‘the Yarka can get awfully hungry. It can be weeks or more between meals, and sometimes, when they do get to eat, they like a second helping.’

With a whimper, the albino dropped his sword and bolted from the room.

Tab leapt out of the pod and threw her arms around Verris. ‘How did… Where were you?’

‘I rode up on the underside of the pod. I wanted my appearance to be a surprise.’

‘But the Yarka… They took you into their big round black thing.’

‘I negotiated, like I said. They really are very honourable creatures, once you talk to them as equals.’

‘Talk to them?’ asked Danda. ‘How did you talk to them?’

Verris shrugged. ‘You don’t follow the pirate career path for as long as I have without picking up the odd foreign word here and there.’

‘So you can speak Yarka? Why didn’t you say so?’

Verris smiled. ‘I wouldn’t call myself fluent. I could say what I needed to to escape, and that’s about it. Besides, let’s face it, Danda, if you’d been sent all the way down there only to discover that your presence wasn’t actually required, you’d have been pretty annoyed, wouldn’t you?’

‘I’m pretty annoyed now!’ she replied. ‘And to be honest, I think I’d quite like to go home, if that’s all right.’

Verris smiled. Then he took both her hands in his. ‘Danda, you have played your part, and you’ve played it well. Quentaris might not be ready to thank you just yet, but given time it will. Go home now. And I… we thank you.’

As soon as Danda had gone, Verris stepped down into the pod, which rocked gently under his weight. He bent and picked up Torby. ‘I think we’re late for a night at the theatre, after a quick stop at the palace. There might be one or two generals locked away down there who are looking for a phalanx of militia to lead.’

‘Where are we going to find the phalanx of militia?’ Tab asked.

‘They’re locked up in the cell next to the generals.’ He shook his head and chuckled. ‘What kind of idiot keeps officers and men in a place where they can work on a plot together?’

‘An idiot like Florian?’ Tab suggested.

‘Precisely that kind of idiot. Come on, Tab, let’s hurry.’

The audience was in, and Fontagu was nervous. And these were more than just first-night nerves – these were serious frightened-of-doing-something-that-might-get-me-killed nerves.

He pulled the side-stage curtain apart slightly. The footlight candles were lit, and over in the royal box the refreshments were being laid out, ready for Florian and his party to arrive.

‘Mister Wizroth.’

Fontagu turned. A boy in a dress was standing there, biting at his thumbnail.

‘What is it, Lindo?’

‘I’m scared.’

‘Of course you are – you’re a terrible actor.’

‘Do you really think so?’

‘Of course, but it’s too late to be thinking about that now. We’ve prepared as well as we can, and now it’s time to put it all together. Yes?’

‘Yes sir. But what if I mess up my lines?’

‘I’ve no doubt you all will, but we’ll just do our best,’ Fontagu said, checking the royal box again. There was some movement at the back, followed by a fanfare from a trumpeter. The audience turned to welcome Florian, who squeezed into his seat and offered a bored wave.

‘This is it, Fontagu,’ he whispered to himself. ‘Time to be glorious once more.’ Then he let out a long fluttery breath and wiped his clammy palms on his thighs, before turning to Lindo. ‘Go and tell the others to get ready – the Emperor’s just arrived. Go!’