“Pity,” said Terceth, taking the emptied cup. “When we find your man, if we find him, we’ll return to the city. Surely you have a supply there?”
The Prince grimaced. “I had a supply when we were captured. The Shah’s minister was . . . carrying it for me, for safekeeping.”
“Ah,” said Terceth, making a mental note. “Indeed. Well, when we return, I’ll inquire.”
He returned to the cabin and turned the floater to follow the Tracker toward the sea and then south. A little later, they came upon him, staring out to sea.
Following his gaze they saw a ship moving southward quite close to shore, and through the glasses they could see its men were all at the far railing, peering into the distance.
“Can we get out there, Captain?” Terceth called to his pilot.
“Of course, Prince Terceth. Do you want all our men?”
“Best, yes. The crew of the vessel may not surrender peaceably.”
“I’ll round them up,” said Dunnel, speaking rapidly into the device pinned to the shoulder of his robes.
The Frangians on the ship had been following a vision of whatever for some time. Their search images did not include a hover vehicle coming at them from behind, low over the water, and their first awareness of the Aresians came with the men who vaulted over the rail. There was only momentary confusion, and the Frangians’ immediate surrender did nothing to contradict the Aresian’s impression of Havenite spinelessness.
“Now where were you going?” Terceth inquired of the man identified as the Captain.
“Well,” said he, trying to focus on this new whatever when the former whatever was still very much on his mind, “we were going to Mahahm, to pick up P’naki for the Lord Paramount of Haven. But then we saw a wonderful whatever, so we set off to pursue that …”
“P’naki?” asked Terceth. “And what’s that?”
“It’s a medicine, to prevent batfly fever.”
“And where does Mahahm get it?”
“Why as to that, sir, I don’t know.”
“So you’re following this creature, eh? You wouldn’t object if we came with you?” said Terceth.
“But, sir . . .” said the head Tracker.
“Peace, Dunnel. I’ve nothing else to do at the moment. The ship is headed the same way we are. Why not enjoy a sea voyage while they search for this wonder. Perhaps we will come upon the man we are seeking. . . .”
In the cave at the standing stone, Genevieve lay asleep by the pool, Dovidi beside her. Awhero, Melanie, Kamakama, and Jorub had disassembled the drive mechanism of Jorub’s sled and were painstakingly cleaning out the sand it had gulped at the previous halt.
“I suppose we should wait for Joncaster and them,” said Jorub. “Though we could just leave a message.”
“She won’t go,” said Awhero, in a low voice. “Look at her. Smiling in her sleep. First time since she left Mahahm-qum, probably.”
“She knows he’s safe,” argued Melanie.
“Knowing isn’t having,” said Kamakama. “He’ll be needing her, too, when he comes.”
“Wise head on young shoulders,” remarked Awhero, with approval.
“Soon to be lopped off,” said a cold voice.
They were aware too late, for the Marshal was already in the entrance to the cave, pointing a complicated weapon at them and obviously ready to use it at the first movement. “Wake her,” he snarled at Awhero. “Bring her and the child over here. The rest of you, sit against the wall.”
Reluctantly, Awhero rose to her feet and stepped to the blanket where Genevieve and the baby slept. As Awhero knelt down, she saw that Genevieve’s eyes were already open, peering deeply into Awhero’s with complete awareness.
“I’m coming,” she murmured, rolling over to gather Dovidi to her in one smooth movement that brought her to her feet.
“Good day, Father, she said in a casual voice. “I am relieved to see you well. We had heard the Shah was creating much havoc, and we feared you might be caught up in it.”
“And your fear for me set you running as far away as possible,” he sneered.
“No,” she said. “My fear for Dovidi did that. Particularly as you were already with the Shah by the time we knew anything about the furor.”