Crown Thief

CHAPTER NINE

I didn't think I'd sleep. Not then. Not ever again.

Yet as the night wore on, so my thoughts began to muddle and turn in on themselves, the darkened room becoming more of a blur. The next I knew, I was being woken from shapeless nightmares by the sound of hammering on the door. I lurched to my feet — or tried to. My bruised muscles were in no condition for swift movements. The chair spun sideways, and I ended up in a heap on the floor.

I crawled to the door on hands and knees and tried to listen. There was nothing except silence now. I didn't trust silence. In my mind, it shaped itself around a small, gaunt man, and the glistening blade he held in one lean hand.

"What are you doing in there? Open the damned door, Damasco."

It certainly sounded like Alvantes. "How do I know it's you?"

"You'll know in five seconds' time when I kick it down."

Maybe it was possible to imitate Alvantes, but imitating an angry Alvantes was a stretch too far. I dragged back the bolt and opened the door.

Alvantes pushed past me. "Are you ready to leave?"

I could see that the passage outside was doused in gloom, with one lone lamp burning at the head of the stairs. "It's still night," I said.

"An hour before dawn."

I took a moment to digest that fact. "Yes. Of course, I'm ready. I never even had a chance to unpack my saddle bags."

"You won't need them. We're leaving the horses here."

I couldn't help noticing that even as he said it, Alvantes was dragging his own bags from the chest in the corner. If he was aware of the hypocrisy, he gave no sign.

In all that had happened, I'd forgotten the mystery of what Alvantes was hiding. Now, as he hoisted the bags over one shoulder, I could just discern the faint bulge I'd noticed before. Should I be lucky enough to survive the next few minutes, it was something I'd have to investigate. Now that we were apparently stuck together, it wouldn't do for Alvantes to be keeping interesting secrets from me.

As for myself, I had everything I really needed: my rucksack, what little money I had left and the clothes on my back. "All right," I said. "I'm ready."

"Follow me then. And try to keep up. We don't have much time."

I did as I was told, keeping close to Alvantes as he marched along the balcony, down the stairs, out through the door of the Fourth Orphan.

The moment we stepped into the open air, my heart began to hammer. There were no street lights in this portion of Aspira Nero. Beneath a cloudy and moonless sky, the shadows were thickly black. One glance showed me countless places Synza could be hiding.

Perhaps his earlier attack hadn't been as reckless as it had seemed, but it certainly suggested he'd relaxed his standards. There was no reason to think Alvantes's presence would deter him. In this darkness, Synza could kill me a dozen times before Alvantes even noticed I was gone.

I stayed near as we crossed the courtyard and turned into the street, trying to keep in Alvantes's line of sight — a next to impossible goal when I had no idea where we were going. If Aspira Nero was mazelike by day, it was doubly so at night. All I could gather was that we were heading downward, which meant we were travelling roughly west. I struggled to construct a mental map of the town, but it was hopeless. Between pain, tiredness and my basic lack of knowledge, I was helplessly disorientated.

Only when we came out into clear space through a gap in the buildings did I realise our objective should have been obvious. There were only two routes across the border, and only one lay to the west. In fact, I should have guessed the moment Alvantes told me we were leaving the horses. Before us lay the dockside.

The harbours of Aspira Nero were almost as large as those at Altapasaeda, and more impressive in their way. Though the low stone wharfs and occasional wooden jetties were basic enough, they were home to craft far grander than the skiffs and barges that dawdled along the southern portion of the river.

Such was the vessel Alvantes was leading us towards. It might have been the biggest riverboat I'd ever seen. Even if it could somehow have passed under the bridge that rose to our left, it couldn't possibly have navigated the southern Casto Mara without scraping its bottom out on the shallower sections. Only to the north, where the river broadened and deepened, could such a craft be of use.

It bore a single sail amidships and a low, rail-enclosed aftcastle. I could see men moving on board despite the hour, and a small group clustered near the gangplank. As we drew near, Alvantes hissed, "Don't speak of the King. Don't bring up Panchetto or Moaradrid. Definitely don't mention the situation in the far north or the Bastard Prince."

"Who's the…?"

"Shut up. In fact, in general, keep your mouth shut."

One of the men on the dockside broke away to block our path. "Who goes there?" he said.

"It's Alvantes, with the companion I spoke of."

The man moved nearer. I saw he was dressed in uniform, though it wasn't one I recognised. "Just in time, Guard-Captain. Get aboard, please."

Alvantes hesitated. "Damasco, this is Commander Ludovoco of the Crown Guard… also captain of this boat, the Prayer at Dusk."

"There'll be time for introductions later." Ludovoco made no effort to mask the impatience in his voice.

Alvantes nodded, and led the way across the last stretch of dockside and up the narrow ramp. Ludovoco and his men fell in behind, and I couldn't help noticing how the sailors on deck stopped what they were doing to form around us. On that unlit deck, at that predawn hour, our welcome seemed more menacing than gracious.

As the gangplank was hauled up, Ludovoco said, "Come. I'll show you your quarters."

He led us through the leftmost of two doors set either side of the aftcastle, down a narrow flight of stairs and through another door off a claustrophobic passage. The room beyond was tiny, just big enough for the two bunks it contained. There was a hurricane lamp suspended from the ceiling, already lit. In its light, I got my first proper look at Ludovoco.

He was to the younger side of middle age, his dark hair shorn short beneath a skullcap, clean-shaven but for a thin moustache and a jut of beard beneath his sharply angled chin. His uniform was of fabric so starkly black that it seemed to eat the light, relieved only by the flash of silver insignia at his breast. He wore a sword, slightly curved, though not so much as the scimitars favoured by Moaradrid's plainsmen. It didn't look remotely ornamental.

In short, he cut a daunting figure — and his manner did nothing to allay the impression. "Somewhat spare," he said, in a tone that made it clear he wasn't the least concerned with our comfort. "We're a military vessel, not prepared for guests."

"We're glad of whatever you can provide," replied Alvantes, matching our host's tone of bare civility note for note. "If our mission weren't of the utmost importance, we'd never have imposed."

"If it weren't, you'd never have been allowed to. Now, as I'm sure you'll appreciate, I'm needed on deck. May I ask that you confine yourselves to quarters for the time being."

It wasn't a question, and Ludovoco didn't wait for an answer. He stepped out, shut the door behind him. I almost expected the click of a lock, but none came; at least we were trusted to do our own confining, it seemed.

I sat on the lower bunk. "Your friend doesn't seem too pleased to have us along. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I doubt it is. But it's the only way to ensure Synza can't reach you."

"So who is this Ludovoco?"

"He's a commander in the Crown Guard. They're something like Altapasaeda's Palace Guard, though with a broader mandate — and of course, far greater territory. Within their jurisdiction they have absolute authority, answering only to the King himself."

I gave a low whistle. "That's a lot of power. No wonder Ludovoco doesn't go in much for manners."

"He's doing us a favour," said Alvantes. But he sounded sceptical. As was so often the case lately, it was obvious there was more here than I was seeing.

I was too tired to riddle it out then, though, and trying to get straight answers from Alvantes was wearisome at the best of times. It could wait until morning. I lay back on my bunk and pulled the single thin blanket over me. "Well," I said, "I suppose it beats another day on horseback."

I slept a broken and murky few hours' sleep, unable to find any portion of the hard bunk that didn't make my damaged flesh hurt more. I was almost glad when Alvantes clambered down and relit the storm lamp.

With no portholes, it was impossible to judge the time of day. However, sounds of activity from the rest of the boat suggested it was well past sunrise. I sat up, kneading swollen eyes, to see Alvantes looking down at me.

"We should show our faces on deck," he said. "Damasco, if you only ever listen to one thing I say, let it be this. Be careful around Ludovoco and his men. Don't engage with them if you can help it. One wrong word could put us both in grave danger."

"I'll be on my best behaviour," I said. "Better still, I'll be on your best behaviour." I tried to sound glib, but I couldn't help wondering what exactly we'd swapped Synza for. There'd been definite unease in Alvantes's voice.

On deck, Ludovoco greeted us with a curt nod. "Good morning," he said. "I won't be assigning you work, but please take care to stay out of my men's way."

I glanced at Alvantes, wondering if this suggestion of delegating labour to the guard-captain of Altapasaeda was as much a slight as it seemed. If it had registered, Alvantes hid it well. "Perhaps the upper deck?" he asked.

"That would be suitable. One of my men will bring you food when they eat."

I followed Alvantes up a near-vertical flight of stairs. As he must have observed, there was no one on the small aftcastle deck. He picked a spot upon the horseshoe of balustrade that ringed its edge and sat with his back against it. I followed his example, choosing a point as far from him as possible.

And that was how we spent the day. Within minutes I'd come to two obvious realisations, which only grew more apparent as the hours wore by. Being on a riverboat was boring. Being on a riverboat with Alvantes and a crew that made no secret of resenting our presence was the most boring thing imaginable.

At first, I found some distraction in watching Ans Pasaeda go by and noting how its sights differed from the scenery back home. Unfortunately, in most ways the answer was barely at all. The fields looked like Castovalian fields, the trees like Castovalian trees, and the dim purple hem of mountains far to the west looked very much like the mountains that bordered the Castoval. Even the farms and small settlements we passed were only a little dissimilar, built mostly of unplastered yellow brick with pale thatched roofs. The only significant differences were a sense of wide-open space the Castoval could never offer and the wheeling white specks in the sky far to the east that marked the presence of the ocean.

After a few hours of having my mind turned steadily to mush, I asked Alvantes, "How long until we reach Pasaeda?"

"Perhaps two more days," he said. "Assuming this wind holds."

I groaned inwardly, cursed my own survival instincts. Would it have been so hard to let Synza kill me? Better that than death by scenery.

I'd realised by the second day that if I didn't find a distraction I'd undoubtedly go mad.

At first, I entertained myself by wondering at all the things Alvantes might have hidden in his saddlebag. Perhaps it was a rare treasure he'd stolen from Panchetto's palace. Perhaps he was a spy, sneaking documents to shadowy conspirators in the Royal Court, or was bolstering his meagre guard salary by smuggling rare contraband. Maybe he was really an assassin like Synza, with some outlandish weapon stashed for the one moment he'd need it.

While the possibilities I came up with offered brief amusement, they were all absurd — which only made me more determined to satisfy my curiosity in a more practical fashion. However, that line of thought led me quickly to the second of the day's insights.

For guests, we were being treated an awful lot like prisoners.

It took a while to sink in. Though Ludovoco and his crew lacked manners, they weren't without discretion. Hour on hour, however, it became more clear that whatever the business on deck, someone always had an eye trained in our direction.

What did it mean? Would Alvantes have been foolish enough to fill Ludovoco in on my career history? Had my notoriety crossed the border into Ans Pasaeda? Yet the attention didn't seem aimed specifically in my direction; quite the opposite in fact. Perhaps it was just that Ludovoco's service to the King had made him unduly paranoid, even towards his own. After all, being guard-captain of the Castoval's only city might not carry much weight to an Ans Pasaedan.

As it turned out, both questions came to a head late in the afternoon. We'd arrived at a junction in the river, an almighty confluence of fast-flowing water. The Casto Mara (called the Mar Corilus here, according to Alvantes), continued east towards the sea, already twice as wide as it ran anywhere in the Castoval. To the north-west, it was met by another river, narrower but still impressive, known as the Mar Paraedra. That was the course that would take us on to Pasaeda.

On the left bank of the junction was a small harbour town, and here the Prayer at Dusk docked, for reasons no one felt the need to share with us. A few of the men immediately hauled the gangplank into place and descended.

To my surprise, Alvantes left his place against the stern railing and strode towards the ladder joining upper and lower decks. It was the first time I'd seen him move purposefully since we'd come on board — and that immediately stirred my interest. Whatever he was up to, it might just help alleviate the day's tedium. I hurried to follow.

Ludovoco had just arrived on deck. Alvantes swung down the ladder and came to a smart halt in front of his fellow officer. "I see we've stopped," he said. "Perhaps I could take a few minutes ashore to stretch my legs."

"I'm sorry," said Ludovoco, "I can't spare anyone to accompany you."

"I won't need any assistance."

"Let me speak plainly. You are under the protection of the Crown Guard. As long as that remains the case, you're my responsibility. To have you wandering unescorted is a risk I'm not willing to take."

"I've no intention of going far, let alone placing myself in danger."

"Nevertheless…"

"Commander, I must insist."

The silence that followed was heavy as the minutes before a storm, as though the very air was holding still in anticipation. The moment seemed to stretch impossibly. Then, as if nothing untoward had been said, Ludovoco waved over one of the sailors. "Labro," he said. "I'm assigning you to Guard-Captain Alvantes. Take him wherever he'd like to go in town." He put particular emphasis on those last two words. To Alvantes he added, "Might I suggest you take your companion with you."

"Fine by me," I agreed.

"I can give you an hour. After that, Labro will escort you back."

"An hour will be ample," Alvantes agreed.

"Good." With a gesture somewhere between a salute and a wave of dismissal, Ludovoco turned and disappeared into the lower deck.

I watched his retreating back in fascination. What I'd just witnessed was a pissing contest, pure and simple, and Alvantes had instigated it. I wondered if the results were what he'd hoped for. Ludovoco had given ground, but in such a fashion as to make clear who was in control — and that we were going nowhere without his say-so. If Alvantes had been feeling out the limits of his status aboard the Prayer at Dusk, he had his answer right there.

Now it was time for me to do the same. I'd seen an opportunity that might not come again. "Just a moment," I said, "I've left my coin in my cabin. This is my first time in Ans Pasaeda. Who knows what I might find?"

Labro wavered, obviously unsure how this fit into his orders. In the end, he looked to Alvantes.

"Be quick," Alvantes told me.

"I'm always quick."

And I was — when I was up to something I didn't want to be interrupted.

I scurried down into the aftcastle and on into our room, closing the door quietly behind me. Alvantes's bags were crammed into the slender gap between the bunks and the outer hull. I took a moment to memorise their precise position, then pulled them free.

Now that I knew what to expect, it was easy to see which had the slight bulge at its base. I drew out the bag's contents, a blanket, a change of shirt and other personal effects, taking care to remember how everything was packed and piling them accordingly.

The bags were leather, lined with heavy cloth. I could see immediately that the bottom of the other saddlebag's lining had been cut out and sewn into this one. Feeling around, it wasn't hard to detect a halfdozen shallow bumps beneath the fabric, or to identify them from shape and size as onyxes.

Not bad. Quite clever even. Alvantes's ploy might have fooled anyone who didn't know what to look for — and hadn't been the one to educate him in the art of hiding things. With that in mind, it didn't take a genius to notice there was another thumb's length of space beneath the false bottom. My guess was he'd removed the bottoms of both bags and sandwiched them together, with the coins between and a shallow hiding place beneath.

It would be tricky to investigate further without leaving evidence — and time was running out. I pushed one hand within the bag, placed the other on the outside and teased along the edge of the false bottom. Something solid ran around the circumference. It didn't give at all, but nor was it heavy enough to much affect the bag's weight. Perhaps some reinforcement for the compartment? Then again, the stiff leather outer would suffice for that. More likely, this was the hidden object itself. What could it be? A perfect ring of metal, thin, light, a thumb's length deep…

I realised I wasn't breathing — hadn't been for I couldn't say how long. With a great effort, I forced myself to draw air.

It was a crown.

No. It was Panchetto's crown.

To all intents and purposes, Alvantes had been carrying round the princedom of Altapasaeda.

Mounteban would kill without hesitation to have it.

So would many others — maybe even Ludovoco. Who knew what nest of political vipers we might have stumbled into?

Using the tiny portion of my mind still functioning, I heaped Alvantes's belongings into the saddlebag, put both bags back as I'd found them. It was tricky to remember how to walk, but I managed it. I left the cabin, climbed the stairs to the deck. Alvantes gave me a brief glance of suspicion but said nothing.

"Shall we go?" I asked. I felt as if I was trying to talk around a mouth full of treacle, but if either of them noticed, they hid it well.

Panchetto's crown.

He'd been wearing it when I first met him. It had been exceptionally shiny. In bare weight of gold and jewels, it would be worth a fortune. Symbolically, it was worth a city, perhaps the fate of the entire Castoval.

No wonder Alvantes had taken pains to hide it.

The remainder of the day passed in a blur.

Before I knew it, we'd returned to the Prayer at Dusk. I couldn't recall a thing I'd seen, or any detail of the town we'd walked through, not even its name. On the rare occasions Alvantes or our "escort" Labro had bothered to speak to me, I thought I'd managed a coherent response. I couldn't remember the conversations any more than I could anything else.

As I lay in my bunk that night, my mind was a whirlpool, broken debris of thoughts whipping about its rim. How had Alvantes come upon the crown? It could only have been during the interval between Panchetto's murder and our escape from Altapasaeda. Knowing him, he had some high-minded idea about keeping it from falling into the wrong hands.

Probably that was all this trip had ever been about. Alvantes's talk of bearing the news of Panchetto's death and recruiting the King's help against Mounteban had been little more than a smokescreen. In truth, he was striving to return the crown to the safety of royal hands.

What an appalling waste!

By the third day, I felt I was behaving more or less normally again. It helped that normality involved sitting in silence on the aftcastle deck, watching Ans Pasaeda drift by.

Here at least the landscape was moderately diverting. To either side were vast and almost level plains, so boundless that they made my eyes ache with their magnitude. Scattered upon them were groves of unfamiliar willowy trees, great grazing herds of cattle, goats and sheep and endless farms, each in its own rectangular compound. There were villages too, a few larger towns, and a couple of far-distant places that must surely have been cities. Perhaps they were as big as or bigger than Altapasaeda, yet the sense of scale made even the largest communities seem insignificant.

I had to gaze far westward to see the land rise up, where it finally gave way to the incline of the mountains. Even farther to the north, it was just possible to make out the point where a great ridge of mountainside jutted outward. According to Alvantes, our destination lay at the lowest tip of that spur. If the wind continued to favour us through the night, we'd be there by early morning.

I slept restlessly. Numbing tedium and then the thrill of Alvantes's secret had served to quieten my other worries for most of the journey. As I lay there, wondering what the morrow would bring, they returned in force. I might have evaded Synza once again, but it was hard to escape the sense that I'd only swapped one threat for another. I was friendless and far from home. In fits of madness, I'd given away most of my money. Even finding one of the greatest treasures imaginable within my reach offered scant comfort, for what hope did I have of separating the crown from Alvantes before he hurled it away upon the King? All told, I could see no grounds for optimism.

When I woke, Alvantes was gone from his bunk. I'd grown accustomed enough to the sounds aboard boat to realise I'd overslept. Perhaps it was my troubled night, but I couldn't resist a creeping sense of anxiety, which worsened when I saw Alvantes had taken his saddlebags with him. That could only mean we were in or very near Pasaeda.

I hurried on deck — just in time. As I'd guessed, we were drawing into harbour. The walls of a colossal city were visible in the near distance, a city far greater than anywhere I'd seen, with the mountain outcrop rising dramatically behind. Alvantes stood against the port rail. Seeing me, he gave a terse nod. Then, as the men tied off against a bollard onshore, he moved to intercept Ludovoco.

"Commander… thank you for allowing us to travel with you. We can make our own way from here. I have a brief visit to make before I speak with the King."

Ludovoco eyed him coldly. "I'm afraid that won't be acceptable."

"It wasn't a suggestion," replied Alvantes, holding his gaze.

"Nor is this. You'll come with us now, to the palace."

"I came here of my own free will, in service to the King, and…"

Ludovoco silenced him with an upturned palm. "Guard-Captain," he said, "I hoped this needn't become difficult, but you leave me no choice. Henceforward, it will be easiest if you consider yourself under arrest."