Foster, Dean - Spellsinger 03 - The Day of the Dissonance

powerful leopard flinch back. Corroboc made eye contact

with each of his own crew in turn.

"A brave bunch you are. A bloodthirsty death-dealing

collection... of infants!" His tail quivered with his anger.

"Infants, the lot of you!" Not only Sasheem, but the rest

of the cutthroats were completely cowed by this battered

green bird. Jon-Tom determined not to cross him.

"Four against nearly a hundred, was it? A fine lot you

are!" He cocked his head sideways to gaze at the prison-

ers. "Now then. Where be you four bound?"

"Just a few days out from the Tailaroam," Mudge

volunteered ingratiatingly. "We were just on a little fishin'

trip, we were, and—"

The wooden leg was a blur. It caught the otter between

his short legs. Mudge turned slightly the color of the

captain as he grabbed himself and collapsed on the deck.

Corroboc eyed him indifferently.

"The Emir of Ezon has a tradition of employing eu-

nuchs to guard his palace. I haven't decided what to do

with any of you yet, but one more lie like that and you'll

find yourself a candidate for the knife o' the ship's

doctor."

Jon-Tom tried to pick a likely candidate for ship's

physician out of the surrounding collection of cutthroats

and failed, though he imagined that whoever that worthy

might be, he hadn't taken his internship at the Mayo

Clinic.

Mudge held his peace, along with everything else. The

blue eye fastened on Jon-Tom. "Perhaps you be smarter

than your sour-whiskered companion. Where be you bound,

man?"

"Snarken," Jon-Tom replied without hesitation.

Corroboc nodded- "Now, that makes sense, A sensible

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one. You be a strange specimen, tall man. Be you from the

region o' the Bellwoods?"

"I am." He had to risk the falsehood. It was true

enough now, anyway.

The parrot blew his nose on the deck, sniffed. "Fortunately

for you I am in a good humor this morning." Jon-Tom

decided he did not want to encounter him when he was in

a bad mood. "You two"—he indicated Mudge and Jalwar—

"can start cleaning out the bilges. That's a job long

overdue and one I am certain you'll find to your liking.

Won't you?'*

Uncertain whether to say yes sir, no sir, or nothing at

all, Jalwar stood and shook in terror. Mudge wasn't up to

commenting. Corroboc was apparently satisfied, because

he nodded absently before moving down to stare fearlessly

up at the towering Roseroar.

"As for you, I'd be pleased to make you one of my

crew. Tis plain enough to see you're no stranger to a life

of fighting. You'd make a valuable addition."

"Ah'll think it ovah, sun."

Good girl, Jon-Tom thought. There was no point in

making the pirate parrot mad with an outright refusal,

though he found himself wishing her reply hadn't been

quite so convincing. Surely she wasn't seriously consider-

ing the offer? But why not? Nothing bound her to Jon-

Tom. In fact, she had reason enough to abandon him.

Hadn't he yanked her unwillingly from her homeland and

involved her in dangers in which she had no interest? If

she were forced to throw in with some stranger, why not

this captain as easily as some unsteady, homesick spellsinger?

Spellsinger! He'd almost forgotten his own abilities. Not

a one of this band of murderers knew of his avocation. He

prayed his companions would keep the secret and not blurt

it out in a thoughtless moment. He was particularly wor-

ried about the elderly Jalwar, but the trader stood petrified

and volunteered nothing.

As if reading his thoughts, the pirate captain turned his

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attention back to him. "And you, tall man. What be you

good for?"

"Well, I can fight, too." Corroboc glanced toward his

First mate.

Sasheem muttered an opinion, reluctantly, "Passing well."

Corroboc grunted and Jon-Tom added, "I am also an

entertainer, a troubadour by trade."

"Huh! Well, 'tis true we could do with a bit o' song on

this scow from time to time." He gave his crew a look of

disgust- "I gets tired o' listening to the drunken prattling

o' this uncultured bunch."

Fighting to conceal his anxiety, Jon-Tom went on. "My

instrument's on board our ship, along with the rest of our

personal effects."

"Is it, now?" Corroboc was sweating him with that one

piercing eye. "I expect we'll find it in due course. You in

a rush to demonstrate your talents?"

"At your leisure, sir." Jon-Tom felt the back of his

indigo shirt beginning to cling damply to his skin. "It's

only that it's a fine instrument. I'd hate to see one of your

refined crew reduce it to kindling in hopes of finding gold

or jewels inside. They wouldn't."

Corroboc snorted. "Rest assured they'll mind their stink-

ing manners." He addressed the leopard. "Take 'em

below and lock 'em in the brig. Let them stew there for a

bit."

"These two also?" Sasheem pointed to Jalwar and

Mudge.

"Aye, the bilges will wait. Let them share each other's

filth for a while. By the time I decide to let them out

they'll be clamorin' to get to work."

This sophisticated sally brought appreciative laughter

from the crew as they sloughed away to their posts. The

pirate ship turned westward with the sloop trailing obediently

behind it.

As they were herded below, Jon-Tom had his first

glimpse of the rowers. Most were naked save for their own

THE DAY OF THJE DISSONANCE

115

fur. They were a cross section of species, from humans to

rodents. All exhibited the last stages of physical and

mental degeneration.

That's where we'll all end up, on the rowing benches,

he thought tiredly. Unless we can figure out some way out

of this.

At the moment, entry into paradise seemed the more

likely route. If he could only get his hands on his duar,

there might be a chance. However fickle his spellsinging,

however uncertain he was of what he might sing, he was

sure of one thing: he'd fashion some kind of magic. And

the first try would be his last. He was sure of that much.

Corroboc wasn't stupid, and the captain would give him

no second chance to try his hand at wizardry.

Roseroar suddenly twisted to look back over her shoul-

der, one paw going to her rump. The first mate was

grinning back at her.

"Put yo hands on me like that again, cub, and ah'H

make music with yo bones."

"Gentle now, big one," said the amused leopard. "I

have no doubt you'd do just that if given the chance. But

you won't be given the chance. It'll go easier on you in the

long run if you mind your manners and be nice to Sasheem.

If not, well, we have an ample supply of chain on this

boat, we do. Your heart may be made of iron, but the rest

of you is only flesh and bone. Nice flesh it is, too. Think

over your options.

"If I ask him nicely, Corroboc will give you to me."

She glared back at him. "Ah won't be a comforting

gift."

Sasheem shrugged. "Comforting or unforgiving, it won't

matter. I aim to have you. Willingly if possible, otherwise

if not. You may as well settle your mind to that." They

were herded into a barred cell. Sasheem favored Roseroar

with a departing smirk as he joined the rest of his compan-

ions in mounting the gangway.

Roseroar sat down heavily, her huge paws clenching and

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unclenching. "That furred snake. Ah'd like to get my