Lex Trent versus the Gods

CHAPTER FOUR

Lex managed to snatch two hours of sleep in one of the brightly-painted gypsy wagons stationed down by the harbour before Cara was knocking on the door, waking him up and telling him it was time to go. With an effort, Lex forced himself reluctantly from the cosy warmth of the wagon into the cool early-morning mist outside. The stalls of the midnight market had been shuttered up for the day and a temporary peace lay over the harbour, the bright flags from the gypsy ship fluttering softly in the early-morning breeze.

Lex had always loved ships, but for a long while his favourite had been the gypsy ships for they were painted bright colours and were adorned with bright sails and flags and Cara’s family’s ship — the Breathless — was no exception. Painted sea monsters danced across the hull and a sculptured wooden mermaid rose up along the prow.

Lex stood at the hull as they set sail, and gazed back at the roofline of the Wither City, not knowing when he would ever be able to go back. It didn’t bother him overly. He had enjoyed the city with its books and its museums and law courts, but in some ways the Wither City had been too civilised for him. Thieving from the museums had been a passing amusement but few things compared to the thrill of travelling.

The one faint pang of regret Lex felt was for Mr Lucas since he knew that his employer would suffer the consequences of Lex’s flight. But even this did not overly prey on his mind for it was not in Lex’s nature to give much thought to the plight of others. It served the old lawyer right, really, for trusting him. Selfishness was part of human nature. And at least Lex was honest about his dishonesty. He didn’t hide behind a screen of pious hypocrisy like the rest of the world.

The gypsies had not said much to him but had merely quietly accepted that he was to be accompanying them on their voyage. Lex had been careful to conceal the bracelet on his arm. The gypsies were a superstitious lot and it would not do for them to discover that an enchanter had put it there. Still, the thing itself seemed to be harmless. It was just a bracelet, after all. It wasn’t tight to the point of being uncomfortable, but it followed the curve of Lex’s wrist exactly and no matter how he fiddled with the thing it would not come loose.

The enchanter had called Lex by his name before he left. His real name. Lex had been too preoccupied to notice at the time. But it came back to him later with a small thrill of unease… But, after all, nothing dreadful had happened and it was a small price to pay for the beautiful Wishing Swanns of Desareth. Lex took them out of his pocket and balanced them in his palm, examining them in the glimmering half-light of the morning. He felt a great pride in owning these utterly priceless things and felt glad now that he had ventured into the enchanter’s tent.

‘My name is Lex Trent,’ Lex muttered smugly to himself. ‘And I always get what I want.’

Then he turned from the railings and walked straight into Mr Schmidt.

‘You’re actually going to have a heart attack if you carry on like that,’ Lex said eventually, eyeing the elderly lawyer warily.

As someone who had studied the laws on murder, manslaughter and causation, Lex was feeling distinctly uneasy about the state that the lawyer was winding himself into. It would be just like the spiteful old man to land Lex with a manslaughter conviction. Apparently he had decided to give chase and had paid for his way on the gypsy ship as the only vessel leaving the harbour that morning. Of course, he had believed Lex to be on the ship that had left the harbour some hours earlier, having witnessed the cabin boy scampering aboard wearing Lex’s coat.

‘How is it possible?’ he had spluttered, on running into Lex. ‘I saw you board that other-’

‘Lost sumfing, guv?’ Lex asked with a grin, holding up the coin that the lawyer had given him the previous night, believing him to be a cabin boy.

A look of startled comprehension crossed Mr Schmidt’s face and that was when he got really angry and started shouting and a couple of nearby gypsies became aware of the dispute and came to watch. Entertainment was scarce when you were at sea.

‘I’m flattered, Mr Schmidt, I never realised you hated me quite that much,’ Lex drawled. ‘But surely you must realise that you have no jurisdiction over me now that we are outside the province of the Wither City.’

‘You contemptible villain!’ the lawyer snarled. ‘Are you not even going to show any remorse for what you’ve done?’

‘What, the thieving or the lying?’

‘Both!’

‘No. Why should I? I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again.’

The nearby gypsies laughed. One of them smacked Lex on the back.

‘This is not a laughing matter!’ Mr Schmidt snapped. ‘I am placing this boy under a citizen’s arrest. Fetch whoever’s in charge at once. I demand to be taken back to the mainland.’

Lex winced involuntarily. Only a very stupid person would attempt to order a sea-gypsy to do anything. Lex knew his employer to be a clever man and could therefore only assume that it was the sheer extent of his anger clouding his judgement that made him do such a foolish thing. The gypsies glared sullenly at Mr Schmidt.

‘We take orders from no one, lawyer.’

‘Then I will pay for a life-raft and the two of us will row back to the shore-’ Schmidt began, dropping his hand to grip Lex’s wrist.

It felt more like a mild electric shock than anything as the black and white bracelet split, as if the two halves had suddenly become magnets that were repelling each other. The black half pressed into Lex’s skin as the white half shot from his hand and straight round the wrist of Mr Schmidt. The lawyer withdrew his hand with a yell and the nearby gypsies shrank back in fear.

Lex glanced at the black bracelet around his wrist, puzzled.

‘What have you done?’ Mr Schmidt hissed on finding himself unable to remove the bracelet.

‘Where did they come from?’ one of the gypsies asked sharply.

Lex thought about lying but there seemed little point in attempting to deny that the bracelets were anything other than magical objects.

‘Where did you get them?’ the gypsy repeated loudly.

Lex sighed. ‘From an enchanter.’

Lex couldn’t help feeling a little resentful. After all, it wasn’t like the sea-gypsies themselves never meddled in the magical arts. They were all up on deck, near the prow of the ship, as it was one of the only places large enough for everyone to gather. Below deck the ship was a catacomb of tiny rooms, tunnels and hidey-holes and the galley was one of the only places big enough to accommodate everyone inside. Indeed, with his height, Schmidt would probably be forced to keep his head carefully lowered inside the ship if he wanted to avoid getting a concussion.

Gypsy families tended to be large and always travelled together. All twenty-three of the crew were now clustered up on the deck around Lex and his distinctly unhappy employer. The Globe had four suns, each ruled over by a different God. Weather was an arbitrary affair, very much dependent on whose sun happened to be in the sky that day. Unfortunately, it was Heetha’s sun that morning. As the God of War and Strife, Heetha’s sun was the hottest and the most unrelenting. The wooden boards of the gypsy ship had warmed whilst they had all been gathered there and the steel railings were scalding to the touch.

A lot of the younger people Lex had known in the Wither City had had a preference for Heetha’s sun since it brought good sunbathing weather, and tanned brown skin had been desirable for several seasons now. But Lex had always keenly disliked Heetha’s sun for the way it turned the air thick and dimmed the mind and brought out insect swarms in hordes. The one saving grace was that there was at least a strong sea breeze on the deck, with the ship slicing swiftly through the broiling waves.

Cara’s grandmother — a tiny, wizened woman, with a lot of brightly-coloured scarves tied around her waist — had been brought up on deck to examine the twin bracelets. She reported that she had never seen their like before but that the runes around each of them were of the ancient tongue of Khestrii, although she was unable to translate the precise meaning.

The gypsies had been fidgeting about nervously ever since; discussing what was to be done about their troublesome guests and their bothersome bracelets. Montgomery Schmidt was being predictably vocal in the debate but Lex wasn’t paying the proceedings much heed. At one point, one of the gypsies had suggested that tipping the pair of them overboard would be the best way to placate the Gods for any enchanted evil Lex had brought on board, but the suggestion had not been warmly received by the others and Lex had not been overly worried. He knew gypsies and that was not the gypsy way. Hospitality and honour were very important to them as a people — more important than the fear they felt of the nameless enchanters.

Lex had been leaning against the rail until the sun had made it too hot. Then he had switched to idling with his hands in his pockets and had continued his conversation with Cara. Actually, she was doing most of the talking, babbling on agitatedly about what a disaster the bracelets were and what trouble she would be in with her family over this whole affair and so on and so on. Lex thought she was overreacting a bit. After all, she would probably only receive a mild chastisement from her family, so he didn’t trouble himself to reassure her.

He liked the gold hoops that hung from her ears. They glimmered in the light from the sun, casting golden freckles onto the bare brown skin of her shoulders. And she had the characteristic strong, dark eyes of the gypsies and a prominent nose. If she wasn’t exactly beautiful, she was still something pleasant to look at whilst this tedious altercation was going on.

Lex realised that he had been admiring her too openly when one of Cara’s older brothers took her by the arm with a sullen glare at Lex and led her away to the other side of the ship. Lex sighed and, with no other diversion to occupy him, decided he’d better get involved in the main debate that was still raging between the indecisive gypsies and the incensed lawyer.

He cleared his throat loudly. ‘Excuse me,’ he said, spreading his hands and breaking easily into the group conversation. ‘Sorry to interrupt but I’d just like to reiterate my apologies once again. I know you’re busy people and you don’t have time to be bothering about this kind of thing, but I can assure you that the bracelets are in no way dangerous — you have my personal assurances on that. If you would just be so good as to honour our agreement of passage and set us down on the eastern shores of the Fallows — I believe that’s where you’re going anyway? — Mr Schmidt and myself will then go about our business and this problem will cease to be yours. And thank you again for agreeing to help us so graciously. We really are both very grateful. But please don’t linger up here on our account. I know you must all be busy with the running of the ship to attend to.’

He beamed at the assembled crew and then turned away as if fully confident that that was the end of the matter. It was undoubtedly something about Lex’s manner. It was the sincerity there. Lex was a law student. He was also a thief. And a wastrel. But what he really was, deep down inside, was an actor. Lex knew how to play the necessary roles. And he knew how to be utterly convincing. Of course, it certainly helped that he had what was generally considered to be an honest face. It was something about the set of his eyes.

After a moment of hesitation, the gypsies wandered away back to their various tasks, looking slightly bemused and possibly wondering how they had managed to be dismissed in such a manner. Lex and Schmidt were left alone at the prow of the ship, with Heetha’s sun beating down in searing pulses and salt spray blowing in every now and then from the white froth of the sea. It never stained the planks of the deck for long since it evaporated in the heat within moments.

‘What do you think you’re playing at?’ Mr Schmidt snapped, rounding on Lex as soon as the gypsies had gone.

‘Pardon?’ Lex asked.

He wasn’t to know the further anger he had just caused the lawyer who had been reasoning and arguing with the gypsies for almost an hour until Lex had troubled himself to tear his eyes from the gypsy girl and intervene. And then, he had managed to do with a few sentences what Mr Schmidt (who had always considered himself quite the eloquent orator) had not been able to do in a whole hour of discussion, and get the gypsies to calm down and disband. It really was most vexing.

‘How could you possibly give them your assurance that the bracelets were not dangerous when you know absolutely nothing about them?’

‘My dear Mr Schmidt — may I call you Monty? — I hardly think that truthfulness would be a pragmatic virtue at this particular time. Do you wish them to throw us overboard? If we’re careful, we should be able to make it to the Farrows.’

‘Whence, be assured, I will be taking every available action to have you deported straight back to the Wither City where you will be properly charged with all due-’

‘Excuse me for interrupting, Mr Schmidt, but the sun is very strong out here and you have no hat,’ Lex said smoothly, slipping straight back into the respectful manner he had been forced to adopt towards his employer at work. ‘I have no wish to seem presumptuous, sir, but perhaps it would be better if you sought shade somewhere on the ship. I would hate for you to become dehydrated or suffer heat rash and, as I’m sure you are aware, there is perhaps not quite so much hair on your head as there once was-’

Lex broke off from his arrogant monologue as the lawyer made an angry gesture of impatience, for he had been pushed almost to the limit over the last twenty-four hours.

‘Enjoy it, Lex,’ Schmidt hissed. ‘Just enjoy it whilst you can. I’ll find a loophole once we reach the Farrows. A legal loophole, Lex, you remember them? Believe me, you will be deported back to the Wither City and I’ll have you strung up before a jury before you even know what’s hit you.’

He turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving Lex alone at the prow. Lex grinned, gave an easy shrug and turned back to the railings, watching the ship skim along the foaming surface of the sea. The truth was he had no intention of sticking around once they reached the Farrows. He had no doubt that Schmidt could achieve his aim, given time. He knew him to be a formidable and determined advocate and there was no doubt that he hated Lex with a vengeance. But another thing Lex was good at was running. The Farrows would be a mere blur to him. It would be an easy enough thing to give the elderly lawyer the slip at the harbour and after that he need only linger in the Farrows long enough to secure transportation. And then it hardly mattered where he went. Lady Luck would be watching over him, as long as she didn’t choose this inopportune time to go off on holiday or something, and he would go wherever the wind took him until he found a town of likely-looking suckers waiting to be scammed. That was the wonderful thing for a fraud like Lex — the world seemed to have an endless supply of willing suckers who were practically begging him to take their money.