Juliet McKenna - The Assassin's Edge

“Whose work was that?” asked Temar with admiration. For myself, I was none too keen to see how easily a ship could be knocked on its beam-ends.

“Larissa and Shiv between them.” Allin gazed into the bowl. “I wish I had such power.”

“When you’re working your own element, you do.” Guinalle was lying on one of the cabin’s bunks with a damp cloth on her forehead. I’d thought she was asleep.

“Feeling better?” Temar’s eyes stayed fixed on the scrying bowl.

“No,” replied Guinalle curtly.

“Can I get you anything?” I was glad of the distraction. The way the scrying was swaying at odds with the motion of the Eryngo made me distinctly nauseous.

Guinalle managed an infinitesimal shake of her head, mouth tight.

“I wish you’d try some of Halice’s tincture.” They say let a lame dog that snarls well alone but my beloved might need this stubborn girl up and ready to hunt. I looked at Temar. “Shiv used some sorcery to cure me of seasickness once. When we meet up, he can treat Guinalle to it.”

The demoiselle flapped an impatient hand, which at least proved she wasn’t entirely incapacitated. “All I need are some of the right herbs fresh picked.”

“Have you managed to sense anything of Parrail?” I wondered if Temar’s neutral tone masked a mutual irritation with Guinalle. Sympathetic as I was to her seasickness, I found her manner increasingly irritating.

Guinalle swung her feet down from the bunk and sat up, putting her cloth carefully in a lidded jug. “He’s hurt his arm. I can’t tell how badly.”

“So the chances of working Artifice between you are on a par with me winning a game of Raven against Livak.” Temar’s rueful attempt at a joke fell flatter than my baking.

Guinalle coloured furiously. “I have done the very best—”

“Have you any idea if Naldeth’s hurt?” Allin interrupted with what was either supreme lack of tact or the precise opposite.

Guinalle visibly reined in her emotions. “I’ve no sense of that.”

“It shouldn’t matter.” Temar patted Allin on the shoulder. “We’ll have them out soon enough to heal any hurts.”

Allin looked up at Temar with irritation. “Wizards in pain or delirium often have trouble controlling their influence on their element. They work magic without meaning to. That’s what set Planir looking into Soluran healing traditions in the first place.”

Which were based on fragments of aetheric lore. Which had set the Archmage on the trail first of Artifice and ultimately the lost Kellarin colony. I wondered if Planir felt like a man at a Solstice fair who’s seen his winnings doubled and redoubled in a series of lucky bets at the racetrack. Or did the Archmage know the hollow disbelief of walking away from a gaming table with cumulative losses to indebt his unborn grandchildren?

“While we who use Artifice find ourselves entirely unable to work enchantment if pain distracts us,” Guinalle commented sourly.

“Things bursting into flames all around him will betray Naldeth as a mage at once.” I’d bet enough loot to gladden ’Gren’s heart that things would go badly for the wizard after that.

“The sooner Shiv and Usara can lift them out of there, the better,” Allin breathed fervently.

“We just have to get close enough,” agreed Temar.

Running feet sounded on the deck outside. “Messire!”

Temar only got to the door before me because I was the wrong side of the table.

“They’re on the way back.” The sailor was grinning from ear to ear.

Temar and I ran to the rail to see for ourselves. The Dulse and the Fire Minnow were indeed labouring towards us, favourable winds needing no wizardly assistance but the run of the tide already turning against them. D’Alsennin pennants streamed from their mastheads and cheering men lined each vessel’s rails.

“How far does noise carry over water?” I asked Temar in sudden alarm.

“The wind’s in our favour,” he assured me with a boyish grin.

I masked my impatience better than him but it still felt like half a season before the Dulse drew alongside with exquisite care. The Eryngo ’s crew dangled woven straw fenders over her rails and sailors on the Dulse ’s deck below held boathooks ready to save us from too hard a clash. They need not have worried. The ships came together as gently as a lover’s kiss and climbing nets and ladders were flung down from the Eryngo . I looked down from the height of our ship’s three additional decks.

“Ryshad!” Temar saw him and hailed urgently. He tucked the oily red cloth he’d been cleaning his sword with into his belt, sheathed his blade and came to climb up to us. He leaned on the rail for a moment and kissed me before swinging himself aboard.

“We were on top of them before they knew it.” Ryshad grinned through smears of leaf mould and green grime. A dark stain on his buff breeches was probably blood and the rusty smears on his shirtsleeves certainly were.

“They were barely keeping a watch,” Vaspret amplified behind him. “All tucked up nice in a nest in the woods.” He dug in a pocket and began untangling a waxed cord garrotte.

“Not a rat escaped,” Ryshad said before Temar could ask.

“You took no prisoners.” Guinalle was in the cabin door, face accusing.

Temar stifled a snort of irritation but Ryshad met the noblewoman’s gaze calmly. “No, but we did take casualties who’d appreciate your care.”

A few mercenary men and women, with bloodied dressings around slashes to arms and legs, were being helped across the Eryngo ’s rails.

“Here’s the Fire Minnow.” Allin had come out on deck as well and pointed to Halice’s ship. The Eryngo lurched as it came alongside with less precision and Halice was already climbing a rope with a fine disregard for the crushing gap between the smaller ship and the Eryngo .

“How many got away?” Ryshad demanded.

“A handful, maybe more,” spat Halice, bitter as aloes. “Some cursed hunting party dallying their way back but sharp enough to take to their heels when they realised what was afoot.”

“We chased them,” protested Rosarn, her face taut with chagrin.

“It was a difficult assault,” Temar offered but Halice’s expression was perilously close to a sneer.

“Even if they know the ground, they’ll be slower through forest than we’ll be over water.” Ryshad was thinking through the implications. “We’ve seen no sign of beacons so they shouldn’t raise an alarm before we can attack.”

“We’re committed, whatever they do. The tide’s already on the turn.” Halice was determined to take full advantage of the phases of the moon. With the greater at full and the lesser at half, the tides wouldn’t be running this strong again until the double full towards the end of For-Summer. “Sieur D’Alsennin, who can I have to make up my numbers?” The Fire Minnow ’s wounded were coming aboard.

As Temar hastily produced the list of those who’d thought themselves unlucky to draw a rune to miss out on the initial assault, Guinalle unbuttoned the cuffs of her grey gown and shoved the sleeves above her elbows. “Come on, Allin.” The women headed for a man writhing in silent agony as he clutched gory belly wounds, head pressed back against the board he’d been tied to.

Ryshad looked after them. “I do wish Shiv had been able to raise a surgeon,” he muttered. I caught him in a fierce embrace. His shirt smelt of age-old trees and wood smoke.

He kissed the top of my head. “Have they taken the sentry island yet?”

I nodded, catching his chin and hearing his teeth click. “Sorry. Yes, Allin was just scrying.” I tugged at the red cloth in his belt. “What’s this?”