his hand. ‘He and those Elene friends of his came riding into
Natayos not four days ago. They had a couple of women with
them, I hear.’
Kalten sank down on the ground and made some show of
adjusting his sword-belt to cover his sudden excitement. ‘I
thought Scarpa hated women,’ he said, trying to keep his voice
casual.
‘Oh, that he does, my friend, but from what I hear, these two
women weren’t just some playthings he picked up along the
way. They had their hands tied, for one thing, and the fellow I
talked with said that they were a little bedraggled, but they
didn’t really look like tavern wenches. He didn’t get a very good
look at them, because Scarpa hustled them into a house that
seems to have been fixed up for somebody a little special – fancy
furniture and rugs on the floor and all that.’
‘Was there anything unusual about them?’ Kalten almost held
his breath.
Senga shrugged and took another drink. ‘just the fact that
they weren’t treated like ordinary camp followers, I suppose.’
He scratched his head. ‘There was something else the fellow told
me,’ he said. ‘What was it now?’
Kalten did hold his breath this time.
‘Oh, yes,’ Senga said, ‘now I remember. The fellow said that
these two women Scarpa took all the trouble to invite to Natayos
were Elenes. Isn’t that odd?’
CHAPTER 9
The town of Beresa on the southeastern Arjuni coast was a low,
unlovely place squatting toadlike on the beach lying between
the South Tamul Sea and the swampy green jungle behind it.
The major industry of the region was the production of charcoal,
and acrid smoke hung in the humid air over Beresa like a curse.
Captain Sorgi dropped his anchor some distance out from the
wharves and went ashore to consult with the harbor master.
Sparhawk, Stragen, and Talen, wearing their canvas smocks,
leaned on the port rail staring across the smelly water toward
their destination. ‘I have an absolutely splendid idea, From,’
Stragen said to Sparhawk.
‘Oh?’ Sparhawk replied.
‘Why don’t we jump ship?’
‘Nice try, Vymer,’ Talen laughed. They were all more or less
at ease with the assumed names by now.
Sparhawk looked around carefully to make sure that none of
the rest of the crew was near. ‘An ordinary sailor wouldn’t leave
Without collecting his pay. Let’s not do anything to attract attention.
All that’s really left to do is the unloading of the cargo.’
‘Under the threat of the bo’sun’s whip,’ Stragen added
glumly. ‘That man really tests my self-control. just the sight of
him makes me want to kill him.’
‘We can endure him this one last time,’ Sparhawk told him.
This town’s going to be full of unfriendly eyes. Krager’s note
told me to come here, and he’ll have people here to make sure
I’m not trying to sneak in reinforcements behind his back.’
“that might just be the flaw in this whole plan, From,’ Stragen
said. ‘Sorgi knows that we’re not ordinary sailors. Is he the kind
to let things slip?’ Sparhawk shook his head. ‘Sorgi knows how to keep his
mouth shut. He was paid to get us to Beresa unnoticed, and
Sorgi always does what he’s paid to do.’
The captain returned late that afternoon, and they raised
anchor and eased up to one of the long wharves protruding out
into the harbor. They unloaded the cargo the next morning.
The bo’sun cracked his whip only sparingly, and the unloading
proceeded rapidly.
Then, when the cargo holds were all emptied, the sailors lined
up and filed along the quarterdeck where Sorgi sat at a small
table with his account book and his stacks of coins. The captain
gave each sailor a little speech as he paid him. The speeches
varied slightly, but the general message was the same: ‘Stay out
of trouble, and get back to the ship on time. I won’t wait for
you when the time comes to sail.’ He did not alter the speech
when he paid Sparhawk and his friends, and his face did not
in any way betray the fact they were anything other than ordinary
crew members. Sparhawk and his two friends went down the gangway with
their sea-bags on their shoulders and with a certain amount of
anticipation. ‘Now I see why sailors are so rowdy when they
reach port,’ Sparhawk said. ‘That wasn’t really much of a woyage,
and I still feel a powerful urge to kick over the traces.’
‘Where to?’ Talen asked when they reached the street.
‘There’s an inn called the Seaman’s Rest,’ Stragen replied. ‘it’s
supposed to be a clean, quiet place out beyond the main battle
zone here along the waterfront. It should give us a base of operations
to work from.’
The sun was just going down as they passed through the
noisy, reeking streets of Beresa. The buildings were constructed
for the most part of squared-off logs, since stone was rare here on
the vast, soggy delta of the Arjun River, and the logs appeared to
have been attacked by damp rot almost before they were in
place. Moss and fungus grew everywhere, and the air was thick
with the chill damp and the acrid wood smoke from the charcoal
yards outside of town. The Arjunis in the streets were noticeably
more swarthy than their Tamul cousins of the north, their eyes
were shifty, and even their most casual gait through the muddy
streets of their unlovely town seemed somehow furtive.
Sparhawk muttered the spell under his breath as they passed
along the shabby street, and he released it carefully to avoid
alerting the watchers he was sure were there.
‘Well?’ Talen asked. Talen had been around Sparhawk long
enough to know the signs that the big Pandion was using magic.
‘They’re out there,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘Three of them that I
can pick up.’
‘Are they concentrating on us?’ Stragen asked tensely.
Sparhawk shook his head. ‘Their attention’s sort of generalized.
They aren’t Styrics, so they won’t know I’ve gone looking
for them. Let’s just move along. If they start to follow us,
I’ll let you know.’
The Seaman’s Rest was a square, tidy inn festooned with fish
nets and other nautical decorations. It was run by a burly retired
sea captain and his equally burly wife. They brooked no nonsense
under their roof and they recited a long list of house rules
to each prospective tenant before they would accept his money.
Sparhawk had not even heard of some of the things that were
prohibited.
‘Where to now?’ Talen asked after they had stowed their seabags
in their room and come back out into the muddy street.
‘Back to the waterfront,’ Stragen replied. ‘The chief of the
local thieves is a man named Estokin. He deals extensively with
smugglers and with sailors who pilfer things from cargo holds.
I’ve got a letter from Caalador. Ostensibly, we’re here to make
sure that he got his money’s worth during the Harvest Festival.
Arjunis aren’t generally trusted, so Estokin won’t be too surprised
to see us.’
Estokin the Arjuni was a man who had clearly been destined
for a life of crime from the day he was born. He had what was
perhaps the most evil face Sparhawk had ever seen. His left eye
peered perpetually off in a northeasterly direction, and he had
a pronounced squint. His beard was sparse and straggly, and
his skin was blotched with a scaly disease. He scratched at his
face almost continually, showering white flakes like a winter
sky. His high-pitched, nasal voice was very much like the whine
of a hungry mosquito, and he reeked of garlic, cheap wine and
pickled herring. ‘is Caalndor accusing me of cheating him,
Vymer?’ he demanded with some show of indignation.
‘Of course not.’ Stragen leaned back in the rickety chair in the
back room of the smelly waterfront dive. ‘if he thought you’d
done that, you’d already be dead. He wants to know if we
missed anybody, that’s all. Were any local people particularly
upset when the bodies started to turn up?’
Estokin squinted at Stragen with his good eye. ‘What’s it
worth to him?’ he haggled.
‘We’ve been instructed to let you live if you co-operate,”
Stragen countered in a cool voice.
‘You can’t threaten me like that, Vymer,’ Estokin blustered.
‘I wasn’t threatening you, old boy. I was just letting you know
how things stand. Let’s get to the point here. Who got excited
here in Beresa after the killings?’
‘Not very many, really.’ Stragen’s chilly manner had evidently
persuaded Estokin to behave himself. ‘There was a Styric here
who was fairly free with his money before the Harvest Festival.’
‘What was he buying?’
‘information, mostly. He was on the list Caalador gave me,
but he managed to get away – rode off into the jungle. I’ve got
a couple of local cut-throats on his trail.’
‘i’d sort of like to talk with him before they put him to sleep.’