Retribution

CHAPTER EIGHT

The statement about accents upriver from Indore struck home. Upriver was Wren, the birthplace of Sara and Prin. It also confirmed that while Marcus appeared a plump little arms salesman, he was smart, and clever—which is not always the same thing.

Prin used eating as an excuse to stop talking and think. Marcus had dropped too many clues to not suspect who she was, yet he acted as if he was willing to protect Sara. Perhaps he even believed Sara was Princess Hannah, but if that were the case, he still acted more of a friend than an enemy.

The man the Captain had arrested believed he could bully Sara into confessing who she was. Prin expected her to burst one of the small pods of purple memory dust and she had been prepared to hold her breath, so she didn’t forget most of what she knew for a day. But Sara had resolved the situation far better by calling the Captain.

The eyes of the whole dining room had watched the confrontation, and if Sara had used magic, the diners would have fought over who would reach their table first to collect the rewards. Prin vowed to resort to magic as a last resort. Once used, there was little chance of denying it after.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Marcus said, directing his attention to Prin.

“I’m thinking—and before you ask, yes, I’m thinking about you.”

“You haven’t run me through with that small knife you hide behind your belt if it is even capable of running me through. A blade no longer than your little finger can be a help or hindrance.”

Prin fixed him with her most stern stare. “You’re good at revealing a small amount of information in hopes the recipient provides you with additional material. You’re also good at detecting the hidden weapons others carry.”

“My job.”

“So, you say. I wonder if you have any other jobs.”

He laughed easily. “Times being what they are, a man has to do whatever is needed for a comfortable life. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to some business.”

Marcus stood, bowed to the table at large, and left.

“I can’t decide if he is a friend or foe,” Brice said.

Sara nodded, “That makes three of us. Why don’t we go sit outside and enjoy the morning?”

Prin glanced at the door on the port side of the dining room and shook her head. That was where the man had attacked her. She glanced at the door to the starboard side.

Sara stood and took her arm as she whispered, “You have to go out there and face what happened as if nothing did. Besides, the three of us need to inspect the area and make sure neither of you left something in the darkness last night we don’t want others to find.”

Reluctantly, Prin allowed Sara to lead her outside. Her eyes skimmed the area for anything dropped but found nothing. Then they moved to where the man had fallen. A fresh scrape in the varnish revealed bare wood, probably from his belt fastener. Prin moved to smudge it in hopes of aging the raw wood with spit, but her imagination reverted to the bottoms of his feet again.

“Sit for a moment,” Sara said, as Prin sagged.

Brice said, “These are going to be a long ten days sailing to Indore. I hope the wind holds up.”

“Ten?” Prin asked.

“Or twelve that feels like twenty,” Brice said. “Do you two feel all the eyes in the dining room watching us when we’re in there?”

Sara said, “Almost as much as those on the deck above watching us. Who would have believed a ship like this would have so many idle crewmen?”

Prin believed Marcus may have been up there in the dark last night. She saw no other way he could know several details he’d hinted at, and he knew Jam’s name, or her paranoia made her think so. Anyone could mention the word jam and not know him. What she didn’t know, was who Marcus really was. But when it appeared they might be attacked by the tall man at the breakfast table he had been ready to defend them. That said enough. For now.

They fell into three of the deck-chairs and waited for the sun to warm them. The wind whipped past, making it feel cooler than it was, and the gentle motion of the ship combined to lull Prin to sleep. She woke later, near lunchtime from the position of the sun. Sara and Brice were huddled together, planning and whispering.

Sara said to her, “I have a few spells to teach you, more to refresh your memory, and Maude told me to let you take the lead on the ship, so you begin to act in charge and get used to authority. But, old habits are hard to break.”

“Meaning?” Prin asked.

“I brought three books to study. Each will take me days to get through if I’m lucky. Between us, I’m going to become ill and use the time in our cabin to study.”

Brice said, “We’ll have to smuggle her food, but she also brought some. Sara will remain in our cabin. You will be forced to either make decisions or consult her.”

“I expected something like this,” Prin said. “I won’t fight it.”

Two men, ones they hadn’t noticed before, walked outside and took seats only a few steps away, as if by accident, which may have been true.

One spoke too loudly, as if excited. “The Captain thinks he either fell or was thrown overboard.”

The other said, “He was too big and strong if it’s the man I think it was.”

Prin hadn’t thought of the man as big or strong, although he was taller and stronger than her. She’d only seen him for an instant before he fell. When Brice started to speak, she shook her head and closed her eyes as if napping.

The excited one, the shorter man, spoke hurriedly, “I thought they put him in the ship’s jail.”

“No. He’s missing.”

She sat up and turned to them. “What?”

Both men looked at her in surprise at the sharp tone. The same one spoke first. “There was a disturbance in the dining room this morning, we heard. Now, there’s a rumor that man is missing.”

“You think he fell overboard?” Prin demanded.

Both men shrugged. The taller of the two said, “I hear it happens. A steward said it’s the second one this trip.”

The other interrupted, “I didn’t want to sail on this ship. We should have taken a caravan like I suggested.”

They stood and entered the dining room lost in a personal argument. Prin whispered, “I don’t think either of those two is searching for Hannah.”

“Then, they are the ones to watch,” Brice said.

His remark drew a smirk of humor from Prin, one of the few of the morning. But there had been a grain of truth in the remark. Prin and Brice went out the door to the other side of the promenade deck and walked to the stern, where they paused and watched the wake while keeping an eye on the five passengers who were outside. Twice, Prin noticed a particular man watching her.

Sara left them and went to the cabin, where she said she would read and study. Prin agreed to meet with her later in the day to discuss spells. Prin and Brice strolled slowly around the entire ship three times, keeping tabs and comparing notes on each person. They eliminated several, one because of a family with small children traveling together, another because the single woman was barely sixteen. She could be under a spell that made her younger, but if so, her actions were masterful.

The majority of other passengers were suspect, and as Prin and Brice walked the deck, she said, “I think we’re missing an opportunity.”

“What is that?”

“As the ship draws nearer to Indore, desperation will set in for the hunters. What if we wait until then and spread a few rumors pointing to Sara?”

Brice grinned. “When we reach port, she sails away again in only a day and a half. She can stay aboard, hidden in her cabin but that will draw them from you.”

“Of course, we’ll have to ask her about it. We’re talking about making her a target.”

“But one we can help protect,” Brice added.

They were again walking on the port side of the ship, the windward side, when a dozen steps ahead, a man stepped into view from behind a corner. He faced them, a short, thick bow drawn, the arrow aimed a Prin. His face was flushed with excitement, and his hands shook as if he’d held the arrow cocked for some time.

His fingers released the arrow as Prin twisted to her right, helped by Brice’s shove. It missed, but he already reached for another. Prin caught her balance, and without thinking or reasoning, her hand reached and grasped the handle of the throwing knife. In a single motion, it flew.

The knife struck the archer high, just below his neck, entering to the hilt.

“Get to the cabin,” Brice ordered.

“But . . .”

“Now!” Brice snapped, rushing ahead to the man to catch him as his knees relaxed and he fell.

Prin turned a full turn and found nobody in sight. She entered the dining room and again found nobody in the line of view of the ambush, although a few people were in there eating or talking. The archer had selected his concealed position well. She tried to calm herself and walk naturally, for one her advanced age, until she reached the passageway to the cabin.

“What’s wrong?” Sara demanded as she opened the cabin door.

“A man shot an arrow at me.”

“May the Six Evil Gods curse him. What happened?”

“He missed. I threw my knife.”

“Where was Brice? He’s supposed to protect you.”

“He did. It was a surprise attack, and Brice saved me. He stayed on the deck with the attacker.”

“Well, this is certainly going to draw more attention, and the Captain is going to want to talk to us, for sure. We need to make up a story.”

The door opened, and Brice stepped inside, breathing hard. “As near as I can tell, nobody saw the attack. I threw him over the side. Then waited and watched. Not one reaction from passengers or crew, so I followed Prin here.”

Sara said, “Quick, we need to all spend time in the dining room where there are witnesses that we were there almost all day. How many people can go missing on one ship?”

Brice said, “There are already too many passengers talking about it. Two people have disappeared on only the second day at sea. Three, if the archer is discovered.”

They started to leave, Sara carrying her book and a handful of papers she snatched from the bunk. She snapped at Brice, “Blood?”

“Too much to clean up.” He extended his hand to give Prin her knife back.

Prin glanced at it and noticed he’d taken the time to wipe the blade, but she would clean and oil it again tonight. She followed them to the dining room and seated themselves at the same table. She glanced at people sitting at four other tables, none where they could see the port side, forward. All were sipping tea, playing cards or blocks, or simply talking.

None were close enough to overhear them if they spoke softly.

Sara said, “Since there has been no alarm raised, we know nothing.”

Prin said, “It was a man I haven’t seen before. Brice?”

“No.”

“So, he managed to keep out of sight. Almost as if he selected you for a target because he knew who you are. That’s upsetting.”

Brice said, “He wouldn’t just shoot an innocent person. He had to know for sure.”

Prin said, “I sense Jam’s involvement in this. There is no other way.”

“Jam will need to avoid me for the rest of his life, or his will end,” Brice said.

Sara opened a folded paper and pointed, “Prin, you know the spells we agreed on, but here are a couple more. In our cabin, I made a talisman for each of you. It’s a spell will last about ten days, and all it does is sense excitement by those close to you.”

“Excitement?” Prin asked.

“Yes, so don’t be mistaken. For instance, if a man is attracted to you and his excitement level increases, the talisman will warn you the same as if he intends to do you harm. It is not perfect, but may help.”

“I like it,” Brice said. “After all, who could be attracted to her?”

After they laughed, which seemed odd and out of place, but was a genuine release of emotions, Sara said, “Consider that a tradesman might become excited at the prospect of a sale. That is a poor example, or the tradesman really needs a sale, but you understand? He would not be your enemy.”

“I never had the time to study like the two of you,” Brice said. “So, I don’t understand why you don’t just use magic to solve everything.”

“Maude tried explaining it to you many times,” Sara said, sounding like Maude to Prin’s ears, “magic performed by a sorceress naturally enhances or increases certain feelings or emotions. We do not deal with the elements, and magic was never intended to do harm.”

Prin said, “Besides, no one can know I can use magic. Not even my supporters would allow a queen to be crowned if she has powers. Not a hint of it can come from me. Ever.”

“I know all that. I’m talking about doing more to protect you.” Brice acted as if his feelings were hurt.

Sara didn’t allow the matter to drop. She said, “Prin, I know we never studied gnosis with Maude, but I’ve found something on it that sounds helpful.”

“That’s a new word,” Prin said.

“It is one of the simplest of spells, but slightly different. It’s considered the fuel or basis for most of what we do. Possibly effective and quick for you to learn.”

“Tell me.”

“You visualize a symbol of your intent until it glows brightly in your mind’s eye and awareness of the world around you is gone, and then you hurl it at your intended. A chant or mantra usually helps your concentration. With a little practice, you will cast it into the realm.”

“Words. I understand them, but not what you’re saying,” Prin said.

Sara said, “My fault. I didn’t provide an objective or circumstances. Say you know there are men following you on a dark night. Your gnosis takes time, but you draw fear of the dark into your mind and build upon it with your mantra until it is about to burst. Then you cast it at them.”

Prin settled back in her chair and smiled. “They become scared.”

“Or angry, hopefully at those they travel with so they fight each other. We don’t have time to work on any gnosis more refined than these, but it might help, and knowing them might blend into another if you need it. Any basic emotion. Jealousy, fear, anger, love or even hate might be useful in some circumstance. A soldier who hates his officer might desert, leaving the officer with no army to lead.”

Prin said, “I get it. If I want a job, I can concoct a complicated spell, if I’m a good enough sorceress, to make him hire me. But with your gnosis, I focus on him liking me and wanting to hire me. Easier and probably more efficient, as you say.”

“The drawback is time. Even with practice, it’s like you’re gathering all the particular emotions in the immediate area that you wish on a person. It takes time. Plus, you must choose the right emotion.”

“I’m missing something?”

“You will not use a modest gnosis to make a man who hates you turn to love. But you might increase his love for another, making all his thoughts turn to her instead of thinking of how to capture you.” Sara motioned to the steward who appeared and requested a pitcher of watered wine. She added, “We’ve been sitting here for a long time waiting for service.”

“My fault,” he said. “I usually check to see if any passengers have needs, but the Captain has us all doing extra duty.”

“The missing passenger?” Prin asked, making sure she used the singular term. She was not supposed to know of the others.

“We’re not supposed to speak of it. I’ll get your wine.”

Brice wore an impressed expression. He said, “You two amaze me. By chastising the steward, you established our presence in the dining room in a way he will remember that we were here nearly all morning. I saw him look at your papers and book, and if asked, which he probably will be, he will say we were sitting here at our table and couldn’t have been involved with anything else.”

Prin said, “If we were half as smart as you think we are, this would be an easy voyage.”

Sara unfolded a sheet of paper and pointed to the top. “Prin, item one?”

Prin read the line. It was the refreshing spell to maintain their appearance. A brief nod and Sara moved her finger down. The ingredients and incantation for the no-see-me spell, in case she should lose the powder hidden in her purse. Another nod, and the third item, and the next, and next.

“You’re sure?” Sara asked after they reviewed the final spell.

“The contents, results, incantations, and possibilities of each. I practiced them as much as my combat lessons. I can enchant an arrow to fly where I wish, my knife when thrown does not miss, and if no weapons are nearby, I can use what is at hand. If nothing else, I can defeat most men barehanded. But, before any of that, I would run away so the combat master would be happy that I chose the right solution.”

Brice said, “Running away does not sit well with me.”

Sara turned to Prin, “That’s because of two reasons. You tell him.”

“You are a man—and therefore too innately proud to run. Next, you don’t understand that even if a great warrior wins nine out of ten battles, he will be dead after the tenth, on average. The one that runs away ten times lives to fight or run the eleventh. Running, if done right, ensures survival every time.”

Marcus rushed into the dining room and almost dived into his chair. “Did you hear?”

“What?” Brice asked.

“Another passenger is suspected to have fallen overboard.”

Sara gently closed her book and gathered up her papers as she said, “Yes, we know they suspect two of them fell overboard. Poor souls.”

Marcus leaned closer and whispered, “Three, is the latest rumor.”