Retribution

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Prin didn’t try to conceal herself or turn away. It was too late. He knew. The Young Mage had found her out with one of his tricks.

“Sara,” Prin hissed between clenched teeth.

“What?” Sara turned, realized there was a problem and her eyes followed Prin’s. “He knows, doesn’t he?”

“Yes.”

Brice had also turned to look but maintained his place at the railing. He remained calm. “Time to change plans.”

“He’s a mage,” Prin snapped, drawing unwanted attention from those passengers nearby.

“He’s not alone. There are others. Not as well trained in mage studies, but who knows what else might happen?” Brice turned back to watch the boat lifted to safety. A drenched, tearful, and terrified woman clambered from the boat to the deck where a man of similar age, and a crewman, helped her move to her cabin.

When Prin turned back to the mage, he was gone. The identity of the woman in the water no longer interested him. He has what he wanted.

Prin exhaled, taking in the event and realizing the mage had certainly been responsible for the woman’s accident, even if nobody else suspected him, she knew. Her fall had the effect of eliminating one of the few women on board from his suspicions. True, Prin could have dressed and acted like a man, but changing gender is hard to maintain. Aging a person older or younger is common and fairly easy, but too many subtle things prevent pretending to be the other gender.

A thousand small things give gender-change away. A man bumps a woman on the street and unthinkingly touches the brim of his hat in silent apology, even if not wearing one. A woman reacts to an object dropped into her lap by opening her knees to catch it in her skirt, while a man closes his knees to catch it. A man’s eyes unconsciously follow the sway of a young woman’s bottom. A thousand differences, too small to change, but subtle enough for people to notice. Especially if being paid to locate a missing princess.

None of that mattered now that the mage recognized Prin was his target, the one he’d searched for nearly six years. She’d led him on a merry chase from Wren, over mountains, across an ocean, but in the end, he’d won.

The three of them returned to their cabin. For the first time in years, none had anything to say. They sat on the lower bunk side by side. The ship had turned around and was sailing on course again, the smooth rise and fall of the deck soothing. The wind held, and the ship made good speed.

Brice said, “Will he try to kill you?”

Prin shook her head, “Not if he can avoid it. He needs to display me before Eleonore to prove I’m who he says. If he claims to have killed me, there is still room for doubt.”

“What if we allow him to capture you and I follow and free you when the time is right?” Brice seemed buoyed by the idea.

Sara said, “I appreciate your idea.”

“But?” Brice asked.

“Too much can go wrong. Suppose you lose sight of them? Or they stop you and place you under arrest? What if their swordsmen are better than you when you attempt the rescue? Or you step on a slippery dead fish and fall, turning your ankle?” Sara had never raised her voice or sounded upset. She just stated facts.

Prin said, “He could kill me today and use elemental mage magic to freeze me until he presents me to my cousin. Remember, I can make fire with my finger, but also chill a mug of ale. A better-trained mage could turn my dead body into a block of ice and keep me that way for years.”

“Anyone else got any ideas?” Brice asked.

Sara looked at Prin, then settled back. “I’m going to let the two of you figure this out. That’s part of the purpose of this voyage, isn’t it?”

“You see an answer?” Brice demanded.

Sara remained quiet. Prin said, “Okay, let’s look at this situation as a puzzle, Brice. He recognized me. It’s also several more days until we dock, and after all the passenger murders and disappearances so far, the crew or passengers won’t tolerate one more. Oh, he could do it, but there would be major objections he will wish to avoid.”

Brice said, “He’ll wait until just before we dock. There’s no way off the ship, so he doesn’t have to hurry.”

Sara said, “Besides, to me, he looked like a house cat toying with you. He knows he can pounce at any time. After all these years, he’s going to enjoy himself by taunting you before he acts.”

“Taunting me, how?”

“Oh, I don’t know, but he is still young, not much older than you. He might light up the sky with streaks of light just to impress you, or maybe he’ll strike up a conversation and hint at what he knows, but never make direct accusations. I can see him sending a bottle of wine to our table, or smiling innocently when he sees you. Typical boyish stuff, but from a dangerous adversary.”

“You really have a low opinion of men,” Brice said.

“No, I am forthright in my observations, especially when it comes to young men, such as yourself,” Sara said in the tone she liked to use when arguing, especially with Prin or Brice, both of whom she considered siblings. “I see you suck in your belly and puff out your chest when a pretty girl is nearby, although with the ageing-spell you’re wearing, it looks more silly than normal.”

“A sixty-year-old man can have feelings too,” he shot back.

That broke the tension, and all three fell into a fit of laughter, but it didn’t last long as the reality of the situation reinserted itself. One by one, they returned to the problem Prin faced and sorted out options. There were not many with good outcomes.

Sara said, “He thinks he has identified you, but other than a look exchanged between you, he cannot be absolutely certain.”

“He’s sure,” Prin said.

“No,” Sara countered, “He is not! No words were exchanged, nothing but a distressed passenger who looked his way at the wrong time. He does not know.”

“Meaning?” Brice asked.

Sara smiled, “Meaning that since he is not certain, he must confirm his suspicions. He has no other choice. Imagine if he is wrong but acts on what he thinks and kills an innocent woman. He can’t make that mistake.”

“How does that help us?” Prin asked.

“I don’t know, yet, but it gives us some time. Maybe we can make him second-guess himself? Be a little unsure?” Sara said as she closed her eyes and spoke in a voice that said her mind was thinking elsewhere and on other things.

Brice started to speak, but the frown on Prin’s face and a small shake of her head stilled him. Prin had seen Sara like this more than a few times. She had the ability to take a complex subject and break it down into piecemeal portions, extracting gems of information. That was the ability and help Prin would miss most when the ship sailed back from Indore with Sara aboard. But, for now, Prin waited silently.

Sara’s eyes opened. She smiled. “If you were not who he thinks, what would you be doing at this moment?”

Prin said, “Well, we’ve spent most of our time in the lounge eating, watching the seagulls out the window, and talking about other passengers behind their backs while we enjoyed each other, which is what we should be doing right now. You’re right. I’ll bet he’s up there watching our empty table and convincing himself we’re not sitting and enjoying ourselves because he found me out.”

“But if we are there, he might not be quite so sure,” Brice said.

Standing, Sara continued, “Our appearance at the table won’t convince him otherwise, but there will still be doubt. If we laugh and enjoy ourselves, it might add to his doubts. We will do it, and act normal.”

Prin liked the idea. Even a little doubt might keep him from proceeding until they devised a better plan. If the mage was completely convinced, he might strike at any time, the sooner, the better—for him. Not that buying a little time placed her in a much better position, but as all sailors say, any port in a storm.

Sara reached for the door handle and paused. “Listen, three dour stooges who used to laugh and joke are also going to help convince him. We need to act perky, as though nothing has happened, and we need to smile.”

Prin said, “Hey, I wouldn’t expect him to act for two or three more days. Probably four.”

As they were about to enter the dining room, Brice said, “Is there a spell that can help you swim to Indore?”

“From here?” Prin burst out laughing as the door was thrown open by a steward, who held it for them to enter. The laughter drew the attention of the entire room, with more than one nod of recognition that came with being a fellow passenger on a ship. They were on a boat together, a common enough saying, meaning that you know everyone by sight, even if you’ve never spoken to them. Like pickles in a jar, they’re in the same juice.

As they wound their way past a table with two handsome men of about forty, one stood and said, “I’m James, and this is Elder. Would you care to join us?”

“We would,” Sara said pleasantly, “but we have some family business to discuss right now. Perhaps after dinner?”

“That would be wonderful,” James said. Then in a softer voice, “Don’t go near any railings.”

The warning was more a small joke but told of the attitude on the ship. Everyone was worried. The three of them left the two men and found their way to their usual table. Prin’s eye couldn’t help but drift past the mage’s table, where he sat, but her gaze continued to move about the room taking in all the people. She hoped it looked as casual and confident as she intended. She would give him no more attention than others, but refusing to look at him was just as bad. A person trying to avoid eye contact is as telling as a stare.

Marcus was already at the table, two heaping plates of food in the center, and a goodly portion of what had been on them now occupied the plate in front of him. He half-stood to welcome them, a sign of good upbringing.

They had barely sat before he leaned forward and said, “Want to hear more rumors?”

“We do,” Sara smiled. “But first, can you catch the attention of a steward? I think we need at least two bottles of wine and something to eat. What is that on the plate?”

Prin allowed a smile of her own. The plate Sara had pointed at held a mound of fingerling fish, sun-dried, and fried in oil. They were heavily salted just before serving and crunched when eaten. The fish was a staple of seamen, packed tight in barrels and said to keep forever. Sara and Prin had eaten them at least once a day for the half-year they had sailed.

Marcus said, “Dried fish. They serve them, but passengers usually pass. Stick with the hard bread and cheese, if you ask me.”

Brice said, “Was there hard bread and cheese on that plate?”

“Only a little,” Marcus said meekly. “I’ll get them to bring more.”

He looked confused when they laughed at his response. Prin reached for a handful of the fish, a delicacy she decided to introduce to the royal palace. She ate a few and wanted wine. She licked the salt from her lips, and in doing so, caught the mage watching from his table-for-one.

Her eyes never focused on him, but she felt his eyes on her. Brice was sitting where he could look past Sara’s shoulder and see the mage. She asked softly, “What do you see?”

“He seemed upset when we came in laughing. Now, he can’t keep his eyes off us—and he looks even more upset. Maybe even angry, although I can’t see why he should direct that at us.”

Sara said, “Maybe he was convinced of who is who, but now that we are acting normal and enjoying ourselves, he is questioning if he read Prin’s look correctly. There could be other reasons why she watched him.”

Brice said, “You might be right. He certainly does not act like I’d expect if he was sure.”

Marcus waved his arms and said too loudly, “Hey, include me in your conversation.” Before he could continue, the steward arrived with a tray carrying the wine and food.

The steward placed most of it in front of Marcus but passed out plates for all. He stepped back and said in a formal fashion, “The Captain’s compliments. The wind has picked up, and the sky ahead looks like we may be sailing into a storm. Too much wine and food might make for an unpleasant night.”

Sara thanked him. The warning was lost on Marcus as he leaned forward and attempted to whisper. “They say there’s a madman on board. A killer who escaped the dungeons of Darnell two years ago and killed a dozen people since. All the murders were committed on ships.”

“Who says that?” Sara asked while pouring wine and filling Marcus’ glass last.

“A fellow traveler. He has inside information.”

“He’s getting up,” Brice said. “Now he’s looking around, and the steward went to speak with him. The mage pointed over here, and I think he asked a question. The steward is shaking his head.”

Marcus said, “He wants my old table, I’ll bet. The mage mentioned it to me yesterday, and I refused. I think he wants to overhear what we say.”

“Don’t let him have it,” Sara ordered. “Tell the steward you are not going to eat all your meals with us, so you need your table, but of course, you’re welcome with us all the time.”

Marcus turned to pointedly look at his half empty mug of wine. Sara slid her full one over to join his. He smiled. “I wouldn’t have given my table to him, just so you know. But thank you for the wine.”

The mage followed the steward, and they both stood beside their table as the steward stuttered, “C-can I reassign your table to this mage, Mr. Marcus? He requests a new table that is not so isolated.”

Marcus stood to face them. “Of course, you can. Will my refund for this voyage be returned to me in gold or silver?”

“Sir?”

“I paid royally for this trip, as I always do, and for my first-class cabin and table. I expect a full refund immediately. Then you may reassign my table.”

“But, sir. You’re not using it,” the steward said after a confirming glance at the mage.

Marcus held his ground. “I’m not using my cabin right now either, but it’s still mine because I paid for it. Do you agree? Or do you intend to give that to someone else, also?”

His voice was louder, and heads turned to watch and hear. The mage placed a hand on the shoulder of the steward and whispered in his ear loud enough for all at the table to hear, “Please continue to serve me at my old table.”

He strode away, back straight, head up, robes swirling. But Prin didn’t buy it. He hadn’t found what he wanted, didn’t get his new table assignment, and had lost a public argument with a loudmouth who drank too much. He was saving face by leaving. And he’d learned nothing but that Marcus was not the big, soft, pushover he’d expected.

He still suspected her, but she believed he had self-doubts or he wouldn’t have insisted on the table change. Prin turned to Marcus. “You didn’t make a friend of the mage, but we all thank you for becoming our hero.”

Marcus blushed and said, “I travel all the time for my business. There are entire voyages where I speak to crewmen and a few passengers but always dine alone. I hate that. But you three have offered me friendship and companionship. We are friends.”

“Almost family,” Prin said, raising her mug in a toast. Surprisingly, she found herself believing it. They remained at the table, snacking and eating dinner, drinking wine, and talking until darkness fell and the lanterns on the tables burned low.

The anticipated storm arrived, and most of the other passengers fled to their cabins. Rain pounded the windows, the bow rose higher and fell suddenly, sending white water crashing over the bow, and the ship rolled from side to side. Prin watched the flame of the lantern sway with the ship, but the three of them at the table were ex-sailors, and with his sailing experience, Marcus might as well have been.

Sara caught Prin’s eye and jutted her chin at the door. She wants us to go to the cabin. However, when Sara stood, she said, “Brice, why don’t you stay and entertain Marcus?”

Once inside their tiny cabin, Sara removed her travel bag and spread items on the lower bunk as she talked. “You already have most of the spells, casts, and incantations you might need, but here are a few more.”

“You left Brice in the dining room so we’d have more room?”

“Nonsense. He could have climbed into his upper bunk and remained quiet. I wanted him to spend time with Marcus and listen to him. Marcus fools people with his loud demeanor, but he does one other thing extremely well. He listens. The man knows what to hear, and who to hear it from. Do not mistake him for the bumpkin he portrays himself.”

Prin said, “Interesting. You didn’t want him around at first, but now you’re singing his praises.”

“I confess I didn’t see the value in him. Brice may learn something we can use while up there. Now, pay attention to this vial. The red liquid is potent. A single drop on bare skin makes a person be attracted to you. Two drops and you have a lover.”

“For how long? And how strong?”

“Oh, it’s fairly quick acting, coming and going. It will take effect in a few moments and last a tenth of a day at most. Longer on smaller people, assuming they are given the same dosage.”

Prin examined the tiny vial with the little wooden plug. “If I get any on myself?”

“That could prove embarrassing. The bottle is the applicator because the hole is so tiny only a single drop can emerge. Remove the plug and touch the end of the bottle to the person.”

“So, you think I may need a little romance while I try to sneak into the palace?”

Sara laughed. “No, but perhaps a guard might allow you to escape because of his amorous feeling for you. Or, he might leave you alone to pursue another while you escape.”

“What else do you have?”

“I wish there were more spells. I do have a barely tested spell that might interest you. It gives the impression you’re almost a foot taller. People notice a woman taller than most men, but they’re looking at the height and not at the woman. Few will remember anything but how tall you were.”

Prin said, “I understand. It’s a good idea. Show me how to use it.”

The cabin door burst open, and Brice entered, out of breath, and scared. He shut the door and leaned against it as he tried to catch his breath. “I think I just killed the mage.”

Sara and Prin were stunned into silence.