Rob Scott - The Larion Senators

‘That’s right, Garec,’ Gilmour answered. ‘Medera actually left Orindale and moved into Welstar Palace when the war began. No one ever thought to change the name of the river, I suppose.’

Steven laughed softly. ‘So she was Draven’s grandmother.’

‘Correct,’ Gilmour said. ‘Medera had Nora, Draven’s mother.’

‘And Draven had Marek,’ Garec said. ‘At least, that’s what the history books say.’

‘Right,’ Steven said, ‘I remember: Draven’s wife was the one who had the affair that produced Prince Marek.’

‘The bastard dictator,’ Kellin said.

Garec shrugged. ‘If you believe rumours – I mean, once Nerak got hold of him, it didn’t matter any more.’

‘Good point, Garec.’ Gilmour rolled gracelessly onto one hip to reach his pack. He rooted around for a loaf of bread and tore off a generous handful. Chewing, he said, ‘Glasson stayed in Orindale. He had Detria, who eventually ruled in Praga, and Remond II, who took over Falkan when Glasson died. That all happened after the war.’

‘So Remond was Tenner and Anaria’s father?’ Steven was trying to build the Grayslip family tree in his mind, glad of the distraction.

‘Sorry, wrong,’ Gilmour said, tearing off another mouthful of bread. ‘Tenner and Anaria were Elana’s children, Remond the Second’s older sister, Glasson’s middle child.’

‘But she didn’t rule Falkan,’ Garec said.

‘No, she was dough-headed; Remond took the Falkan throne soon after Glasson’s death.’

‘She was what?’ Steven asked.

‘Dough-headed,’ Gilmour explained. ‘How would you say it in English? An idiot, a lunatic, right?’

Steven shook his head. ‘It’s been a long time since you’ve visited, Gilmour. You really need to come back with me for a while.’ He looked around. ‘Where are we anyway? We didn’t come this way last time.’

‘We were in the woods south of here,’ Garec said. ‘I’m guessing we’re another day or two out of Orindale at this rate.’

‘Do you think Mark will still be there?’ Kellin asked.

‘Impossible to say,’ Gilmour said. ‘I think he’ll sail on the first outgoing tide. He’ll have no difficulty securing a ship and a crew; he will just need to ensure his captain knows the passages through the Northern Archipelago. Then he can stow the spell table and be safely on his way to Pellia.’

‘The ship won’t take him to Welstar Palace?’ Steven asked.

‘Too many shallows in the Welstar River,’ Gilmour said. ‘He’ll have to offload it to a barge or a river-runner. There’s quite a fleet of them.’ He gestured around the deck. ‘Like this one, they run with a shallow draft, even when loaded to the slats.’

‘Then that may be a chance for us to take him, when they’re transferring the table,’ Steven said. ‘He certainly can’t use it at that time so he’ll be vulnerable.’

‘We could do that here in Orindale too,’ Garec ventured.

‘I don’t know that we’ll make it before he leaves, but if we find the right captain, we might make up valuable time as we head north.’

‘That’s true,’ Garec said. ‘We ought to hire a fast boat.’

‘You ought to,’ Gilmour said. ‘Steven and I won’t be coming all the way into Orindale.’

‘What?’ Steven was taken aback. ‘Why?’

A gentle wave moved upriver and lifted the barge before moving on towards Wellham Ridge.

Garec said, ‘I don’t understand, Gilmour. Where are you going?’

‘We’ll make our way north along the coast. When we reach the fjord, we’ll take that old boat Mark rigged for us and sail out to its western end, right where it meets the ocean. Ten days from now, we’ll sail offshore and join you and Kellin en route to Pellia.’

As comfortable as Steven was hiking, biking and climbing amongst the craggy peaks of the Rocky Mountains back home, the thought of sailing a single-masted wooden catboat out into the shipping lanes off the coast of Eldarn’s largest port made his stomach clench. ‘Shit, Gilmour,’ he said, ‘I wish you’d given me a bit of warning.’

‘I hadn’t decided before this morning,’ the sorcerer explained. ‘While I was trying to find Kantu I saw something strange. There was a schooner carrying something that rippled with mystical energy, like a Twinmoon celebration at Sandcliff Palace. It clobbered me as I came by, almost knocked me out of my own spell.’

‘Was it Mark?’ Garec asked.

‘No, it was too far north.’

Kellin swallowed dryly. Despite her growing familiarity with Steven and Gilmour’s special abilities, she didn’t like the thought that that there were insidious magics hunting for them. She asked, ‘So Garec and I will hire a ship?’

‘That’s right,’ Gilmour said.

‘What do you know about ships?’ she asked the bowman.

‘Not a rutting thing.’ Garec grinned. ‘You?’

‘Less, I’m afraid.’

‘Grand,’ Garec smiled, ‘then we’re the perfect pair for this charge. But Gilmour, you need to give us more than ten days. What if we don’t find anyone setting sail right away? What if we can’t get past the blockade? What if it takes us too long to get there? You and Steven could be capsized in a storm or blown halfway to Raiders Cove.’

‘Can’t we take your ship?’ Kellin asked. ‘Can all of us fit? Or is it too small?’

‘In Mark’s boat, we’d be fish food in a matter of avens,’ Gilmour said sadly.

Steven blanched. ‘I don’t like this at all, Gilmour. Why are we doing this?’

‘Because Mark will be watching for us,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘He knows we didn’t die in Meyers’ Vale, and he knows it will only be a matter of time before we come after him. Every customs official, every dockside informant, every Malakasian sympathiser on that wharf will be looking for us, not to mention almors, wraiths, acid clouds or slimy bacterial infections he might leave waiting in the shadows. No, going into Orindale is a mistake for us.’

‘But not for us?’ Kellin asked.

‘No. Mark will track Steven and me, just like I tracked that schooner yesterday. He will search for our mystical energy – he can almost certainly sense the far portal we carry.’

The bow rose again, higher this time, and fell into the following trough with a splash.

‘What was that?’ Kellin asked.

‘Tide must be coming in,’ Garec guessed.

‘Sending waves this far upriver?’ Steven said.

‘What else could it be?’

Kellin returned to the discussion. ‘All right, so it will be more difficult for Mark to spot us.’

‘You can blend in much easier,’ Gilmour agreed.

‘Fine, but you still haven’t answered Garec’s questions.’ Kellin sidled a few steps closer to Garec. She wanted to reach out for him, but fought the urge. ‘What about the blockade, the customs officers, the informants? How can Garec and I find an honest captain willing to undertake an outlaw journey against the crown? None of them will do it. It’s a one-shot agreement: they take us to Pellia and they never work for the Malakasian Army again. Who would take us?’

Gilmour passed the rest of his loaf around. Then he said, ‘You forget, Kellin, that I have a new head, full of army knowledge. While this chubby young fellow didn’t spend much time in Orindale, he did know that the blockade around the city had broken up, so getting to the wharf ought to be quite easy; you might even decide to stay right on this barge – our captain seems happy with the fare, and he hasn’t given us a second glance all day. Also, I’ll remind you that in a deft display of self-preservation, our good friend Steven Taylor stole some sorry slob’s life savings back in Estrad.’

‘Hey, Mark found it,’ Steven broke it. ‘I gave the guy a couple of ballpoint pens. It was a fair trade!’ He smiled. ‘Well, maybe not immediately, until he invents the ballpoint himself. Perhaps we did come out on the upper end of that one.’