Corsair

V

‘How could he have an Orphanidon and something worse fighting for him?’ Hamdan asked in disbelief.

‘What’s an Orphanidon?’ Corena asked.

‘Warriors of the Empire of Orphans,’ Hamdan explained before Yulan could say anything. ‘The Emperor’s personal army and the best killers there are, most’d say. Those who’ve not met the Free, anyway.’

They were sitting cross-legged on the deck of the fishing boat. It was rocking so gently that Yulan found if he kept his eyes fixed on the planks he could master his nausea. Out in the darkness he could hear the faint sound of waves slapping rocks, but they sounded half-hearted. The sea was not making war on him tonight.

‘One man can’t make much difference,’ Corena said.

‘It’s not about the number; it’s the nature of the man,’ Hamdan said, shaking his head. ‘Whole history of the Free proves that. Orphanidons are much the same.’

‘He might be lying about the something worse,’ Yulan said. ‘But one Orphanidon’s enough to fret over, anyway.’

He flapped a hand at a fly buzzing in his face, wishing it would go and immolate itself in one of the torches burning around the boat to keep the night at bay.

‘I failed. Half the purpose of me going in there alone was to see what faced us if it came to the sword. All I bring back is questions.’

Hamdan snorted, almost dismissively.

‘Questions we didn’t even know to ask before. Don’t go flogging yourself for missing the mark of perfection. You’ll have flayed your back to the bone by the time you’re my age, believe me.’

‘Of course it comes to the sword,’ Corena said with more than a hint of irritation.

‘Maybe not,’ said Hamdan. ‘Not yet, anyway. If your Corsair King’s foolish enough to take a tithe from you, even Munn of Festard won’t be able to shrug that off. Lords can’t stand by while bandits go around squeezing all the juice from their fruit, can they?’

Corena scowled and rose to her feet. She stamped away, shouting angry orders at her unlucky crew.

‘You’ve all the gentle touch of a rock,’ Yulan observed.

Hamdan did look a little guilty. He rubbed at his eye wearily.

‘And you’re very serious for a young man,’ he grunted.

That was true. Yulan had been serious for a child, serious a youth. Nothing had changed yet, if it ever would. He had always felt, from his earliest years, that there was a bigger world beyond his homeland. One where greater deeds and consequences awaited him. He had followed the scent of them north, out of the wastes. To the Free.

‘But you’re right,’ Hamdan continued. ‘I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. It’s been a bad day. You’ve had solid ground under your feet. Me? I’ve been stuck out here with only the waves for company.’

He wobbled his hand in imitation of the rocking sea and grimaced.

‘True, though, isn’t it? If the Free turning up at his door isn’t enough to frighten this Kottren off, him being stupid enough to try for a tithe’s about the least painful way out of this I can see.’

‘He’s not nearly as scared of us as he ought to be, that’s for sure.’

‘How many swords did you count?’ Hamdan asked.

‘Twenty-three. Could easily be the same again out of sight.’

‘Who wins, if it’s you and me against fifty of them?’

Yulan shook his head.

‘Before the Orphanidon showed up on the game board, I’d have said us. Now? Maybe still us? Unless Lake’s telling the truth and there’s even worse than him waiting for us. I tell you, though, it might be Kottren Malak needs killing more than any man I’ve ever met.’

‘Oh, you’re young,’ smiled Hamdan ruefully. ‘The world’s got far, far worse than Kottren Malak in its quiver. You carry on the way you’re going, might be you even get the chance to kill some of them. Just make sure you’re getting paid well to try it, because they’re the ones liable to kill you right back.’

A slab of the hard, grainy bread that passed for food on the boat landed suddenly in Yulan’s lap. He started and looked up at Corena.

‘Not much to eat, but us tithe-fruit make do with what we have,’ she said as she threw another to – or perhaps at – Hamdan.

‘He didn’t mean to offend,’ Yulan said on behalf of his comrade, who nodded in confirmation.

‘I daresay,’ she grunted. ‘Folks often don’t. Tell me this: we going to get our throats cut in the night?’

Yulan shook his head. ‘Hamdan and I’ll take watches by turn. I don’t know what’ll happen tomorrow, but I promise we’ll live to find out.’

He watched her back as she went to organise her own little crew for the night.

‘He has children in there,’ he said softly. ‘Kottren. We should get them out.’

‘Careful, son,’ Hamdan grunted. ‘Might be you think too much. If you didn’t want to be different, you’d no business joining the Free. Folks’ll fear you, maybe admire you. There’s not many of them will end up liking you, no matter what you do.’

The archer stretched himself out, setting his back to the deck and clasping his hands behind his head. He closed his eyes.

‘I’ll sleep first, unless you tell me otherwise.’

‘Fine.’

Yulan leaned on the gunwale, staring out over the island. A half-moon was lighting it with faint touches of greyish silver. The ripples on the surface of the sea glinted. In the far distance, he could see feeble little touches of orange light: torches or lamps in Kottren’s castle.

He had toyed with the notion of creeping back in there tonight. Finishing things quickly. He had not seen quite enough in his time ashore to be certain of that outcome, though. He did not know where in the crumbling castle Kottren slept, or whether Lake watched over him.

And there was still the chance, however slender, that this all would end without blood. There was no way to know, but Yulan could not help playing things out in his mind. Since childhood he had sometimes seen both the past – memories – and the future – possibilities – more clearly than those around him. It was part of why he had left his home in search of something more. It was part of why Merkent had sent him to this forsaken island. The Captain of the Free had told him: ‘You’ve got talents, but they’re like unbroken horses: no use to anyone until you prove you can ride them. So let’s find out if you know how to ride.’

‘Told you, you think too much,’ Hamdan said.

Yulan looked down at him.

‘I can hear you thinking from here,’ said Hamdan, eyes still closed. He rolled onto his side. ‘Just keep your watch well. The answers are waiting for us on the other side of the night, but tomorrow can’t talk until it gets here.’

‘All right,’ Yulan said.

‘And don’t get sick. If you empty your stomach on my head while I’m asleep, I’ll throw you overboard.’

Yulan made a sound halfway between grunt and laugh.

‘I mean it,’ Hamdan said.

‘I can’t swim.’

‘Neither can I. What’s that got to do with anything?’