Juliet McKenna - The Assassin's Edge

“Could you fetch them to you by magic?” I asked.

“Probably.” Shiv looked thoughtful. “If we work together.”

“Who are these people?” Temar asked Ryshad.

“Mercenaries, among other things.” Ryshad spared me a speculative glance. “We’ve not met but Halice and Livak speak highly of them.”

He came to slip an arm around my shoulder. I slid my hand around his waist and hid my face in his chest for a moment. The comfort of his embrace helped soothe the qualms I was feeling about what I’d asked Guinalle to do and also meant Halice couldn’t catch my eye. I’d seen a burning question on her face that I didn’t want to answer just yet.

Halice turned her attention to Shiv. “See if you can find out anything about snake-flagged pirates without getting your throat cut.”

Temar squeezed Allin’s shoulder. “You’re tiring. That’s enough for now.”

Shiv nodded. “I’ll bespeak you once we’ve made contact with Sorgrad.” He gestured and the link over the endless leagues snapped, leaving the mirror an empty circle.

Halice turned on me. “How’s he going to bespeak Sorgrad? I thought wizards can only talk to other mages.”

I shrugged. “It turned out last summer that Sorgrad’s mageborn.”

Halice’s jaw dropped and then anger darkened her face. “You didn’t tell me!”

“Not my business to tell,” I retorted. “Take it up with Sorgrad if you’re looking for a fight.”

Halice shook his head. “When I think of all the times I could have used a wizard—” Like me, she’d always considered mages something to steer well clear of but since we’d been caught up in Kellarin’s affairs, she’d come to appreciate their uses.

“Bring magic into the Lescari wars and all you’d do is unite every other duke against the one you were fighting for,” Ryshad pointed out. “Which might at least help end their cursed wars.” He grinned but Halice was still looking dour.

“Sorgrad would have been no use to you,” I told her bluntly. “He’s had no real training. It was magebirth got him exiled from the Mountains so all it’s ever been to him is a bane.” If we in the lowlands were chary of wizards, that was nothing compared to the abhorrence the Mountain Men under the guidance of their Sheltya felt for them. Once I’d seen that for myself, I’d found it no wonder Sorgrad had spent his life suppressing his unwanted affinities.

“We have more urgent concerns than arguing among ourselves.” Temar spoke up with surprising authority. “We were taught in the cohorts to learn all we could about our foes. Who could tell us more about these pirates?”

“If only we still had Otrick to call on,” I sighed. The raffish and much missed Cloud Master had studied the workings of the winds through a lifetime of sailing with who’d ever give him passage. That had been pirates more than once.

“Velindre spent a lot of last year sailing the ocean coast,” Allin said hesitantly.

“She trawls round the rougher ends of the docks, does she?” I was amused. In our scant acquaintance, Velindre was one of those mages who presented a front of serene aloofness. Perhaps she had hidden depths.

Temar looked at Allin, concerned. “You mustn’t tire yourself.”

Allin laid her own small, soft fingers over his long and work-hardened ones. “I’m all right, truly. It’s fire magic after all, and Shiv’s right, you know. The more magic I work, the more I find I can do. ”

I caught Guinalle looking at Temar and Allin, her expression fixed.

“She’s in Hadrumal.” Allin set up a fresh candle and lit it with a snap of her fingers. “I really think she has hopes of being chosen for Cloud Mistress.”

If she was deceiving herself, the mage-woman was doing a lot of work for nothing. Allin’s spell caught Velindre in a library, sat at a broad table covered in open tomes stacked two or three high.

“Allin?” Velindre didn’t sound best pleased, drawing an anonymous sheet of parchment over the crabbed and faded writing she was studying.

“Hello, Velindre.” I heard the nervousness in Allin’s voice. “The Sieur D’Alsennin needs your help.”

“What manner of help?” The blonde wizard’s face was pale against the oak shelves loaded with age-darkened books.

“You’re more familiar with the ocean coast than anyone else we can think of,” Temar said courteously. “We find pirates have landed in Suthyfer and wondered if you might have some knowledge of them.”

Velindre looked cautious. “Possibly.”

“The leader flies a scarlet pennon with a snake on it,” Temar told her. “He’s dark, uncommonly tall and bearded.”

Velindre raised pale eyebrows. “That sounds like a villain called Muredarch.”

Ryshad’s arm tightened round me and we both took an involuntary step closer.

“He was a privateer working out of Inglis,” Velindre began.

Temar looked at Ryshad for explanation. “Traders play by Inglis rules or they don’t trade,” he said with contempt. “The Guild Masters post bounties on ships that ignore their tariffs or sail out of embargoed ports. Privateers go after them.”

“Most take any honest ship that falls foul of them as well,” added Velindre.

Ryshad nodded, severe. “They sell on the cargoes to traders who don’t ask questions or to Sieurs who pass off the goods as coming from their own estates. So where’s this Muredarch been lately?”

“Regin, I believe.” Velindre shrugged.

Temar wasn’t the only one looking to Ryshad for answers.

“The most southerly port on the Gulf coast and a real nest of snakes,” he explained. “Pirates know any law-abiding House’s ships won’t pursue them round the Cape of Winds. They’ll risk it when the alternative’s hanging in chains on the dockside. If they make safe landfall in Regin, they can sell all the evidence to the Archipelagans.”

“Before sailing happily up the Gulf coast with an innocent shipload of Aldabreshin spices, silks and gemstones,” concluded Velindre.

“Why’s this Muredarch in Suthyfer?” I wondered.

“He’s holding a mighty grudge against Inglis,” offered Velindre. “He took a guild letter condemning a Den Lajan ship but after Muredarch had set sail, the Sieur bought off the bounty.”

“So Muredarch didn’t get paid?” hazarded Ryshad.

“Worse,” Velindre told him. “He’d caught the ship and sold off the goods in Blacklith then came to Inglis looking to ransom the crew back to Den Lajan. The Guild Masters repudiated the bounty and told him to make Den Lajan’s losses good out of his own pocket. He refused and they posted a bounty on his own head and ship.”

“So every other pirate’s looking to nail his hide to their mast,” speculated Ryshad.

Velindre shook her head. “Not at all. No one will touch him. He’s a clever man and knows how to inspire loyalty as well as respect. Even if Inglis raised the bounty high enough to tempt some desperate captain, fear of the consequences would have his crew mutinying. For every tale of Muredarch’s bravery or boldness, there are two of his ruthlessness.”

“Where does he hail from?” I’d found clues to a man’s weaknesses in his origins more than once.

“There are a double handful of stories doing the rounds.” Velindre counted off fingers with incongruously bitten nails. “Bastard son of some noble House. One of two sons of an Inglis Guild Master who runs legal trade and piracy in tandem. Dispossessed chieftain of some Dalasorian nomads who took to the seas to escape his enemies. Those are the less fanciful speculations.”

“Where he came from is less important than where he is now,” Temar said firmly. “Madam mage, we would welcome—”

“My regrets, Esquire, I’m sorry, Messire, but I’m staying in Hadrumal.” Velindre addressed herself to Allin. “There are all manner of possibilities opening up here. You studied under Master Kalion and his influence seems to be on the rise. Troanna’s swaying the Council to her way of thinking as well. We could see ourselves with a new Stone Master as well as Cloud Master.” Was it my imagination or did a speculative look enter Velindre’s eyes? “Allin, you don’t happen to know where Usara’s got to, do you?”