"His dungeon was at the edge of my range, as far as my mind could reach within his palace. He stationed me thus so I could monitor what transpired below."
Maquesta's shoulders sagged, but Ilyatha made her realize that the Perechon had made it back before Attat's deadline, an accomplishment of which she and Melas should be proud. There would not be much longer to wait.
Maq and the shadowperson continued to chat, about where Ilyatha and Sando would go, where the Perechon would be heading for the next several months, and whether Maquesta would try to buy her own ship. They pondered where the ki-rin could be, as they had expected him to accompany them into the harbor. But Ilyatha said his mind could not touch Belwar's-the ki-rin must be visiting another plane. When Maq realized quite some time had passed, she went up on deck. From the position of the sun, it was well into the afternoon-certainly past the time when she'd expected Vartan and Fritz to be back. Where were they? Had something gone wrong? Was Lord Attat biding his time, making her wait on purpose? Making her fret and worry? The crew knew she was nervous; Maquesta had done nothing to hide her feelings. They, too, milled about on the deck, waiting and watching their captain.
Tailonna paced about as well, though she kept her thoughts to herself. Finally, she looked up at Maq and waved.
"I do this as a gift to you, Maquesta." Tailonna grimaced, twitched her nose, and strode toward the bowsprit. Balancing on the railing, she glanced down at the water. Giving it a disgusted look, she held her breath, dived over the side, and started swimming quickly toward the dock.
Maq rushed to the bow to watch her, noting the sea elf darted around floating barrels, patches of insectladen scum, and the bloated remains of animals. She dived beneath other bits of refuse littering the harbor; nowhere within fifty yards of the shore was the water clean. When Tailonna climbed out on the dock, Maq scowled. The elf's once-beautiful blue skin was a dirty brown, and clumps of filthy moss hung from her hair and clothes. She futilely tried to shake herself off, and stared irately at the sailors on the dock, who were laughing, slapping their legs, and pointing at her.
To Maquesta, it looked as if Tailonna offered them some kind of retort, as one of the sailors jumped up and started running at the elf. Tailonna simply stepped aside, letting him fly off the dock and into the putrid water. As his comrades doubled over in laughter, the sea elf slipped into the longboat and rowed it back to the Perechon.
Tailonna waited in the boat and motioned Maquesta to drop the ladder. "I'm going into Lacynos to get cleaned up and buy some new clothes. Of course, you'll have to pay for them." The sea elf grinned. "While I'm doing that, you can visit Lord Attat."
Wait for me, Maquesta, Ilyatha communicated. I will brave the sun to see my daughter.
No! Maq thought harshly. I'll not let Attat find a reason to sway you to his side, to reveal what I might be thinking or planning on doing. You will stay here. I'll bring Sando to you.
Maquesta clambered down the ladder, with Lendle close on her heels. Before the trio could push off, Koraf leaned over the side and started down the rope ladder, too. "I am coming," he said flatly. "I will not let you go to Lord Attat's alone. I know the palace, and I know my master. I do not relish returning there. But I have no choice."
Fingering the pouch at her side, Maquesta thought to herself that perhaps it would be better to have Kof along. She had plenty of gems with her that could hopefully buy his freedom. As the minotaur guided the boat back toward the dock, Maq thanked the sea elf and pressed one of the gems into her palm.
"That should cover some beautiful new clothes," Maquesta said. "And it should serve to get rid of the harbor stench."
"The bath definitely comes first," the sea elf said, wriggling her nose. "The harbor water is poisonous. Nothing prospers there but slime and insects and small, venomous serpents. The minotaurs should be slain for harming the water so."
Several minutes later Maquesta and Koraf strode along the wharf, with Lendle doing his best to keep up with them. The trio passed by one long dock after the next on their way to the main street that would take them to Lord Attat's imposing manor.
"MaquestaKarThonpleaseslowdown!" the gnome scolded. Lendle was nearly out of breath, taking four steps to each one of Maq's and Koraf's long strides. The gnome puffed and bounced along, his arms flapping out to his sides, as if, like a bird's wings, they might speed his course.
"I'm in a hurry, Lendle," she snapped back. "I'm worried." Her expression indicated her concern, but the gnome acted oblivious.
"Pleasewalkslower," he huffed. Then his eyes grew wide, spotting something Maquesta and her minotaur first mate did not see. "StopMaquestaKar-Thon!"
Perturbed, Maq halted in her tracks, and Lendle, who had not stopped walking, bumped into the back of her legs and nearly knocked her over. "Look!" he shouted, pointing out into the harbor. "Look what I see, Maquesta!" When it appeared Maq was too busy to be distracted, the gnome shook her hand and pointed again.
Finally, Maquesta turned to see what had caught the gnome's attention, and her heart sank. Anchored several ships over from the Perechon, in the shadow of a great caravel, was the Butcher. She couldn't have seen the ship from the deck of the Perechon. Which meant, she hoped, that the Butcher's crew-what was left of it, anyway-couldn't see her ship either. The Butcher looked nearly as bad as the Perechon. She saw a crew working to repair the mainmast, the one Belwar had ruined. Another group looked as if they were fixing the hole on the deck. A longboat was still tied up near the center of the ship. Perhaps no one was ashore.
"We've got to hurry," she told the gnome. "We've got to collect my father, Fritzen, Vartan, and Sando. And we've got to get out of here. I don't want any trouble."
"Oh, I'd say you've already found trouble, Captain Kar-Thon."
Maquesta and Koraf whirled to see a gruesome sight. Striding toward them was a bedraggled-looking Mandracore. He was flanked by a pair of merrow, aquatic ogres. Looking as if they could be twins, the ogres each had a tangled mass of hair that resembled dried seaweed. A blue-green tinge to their skin, they had scales covering their shoulders, necks, and parts of their arms. They each wore a leather breastplate that did little to hide their bulging muscles.
Mandracore, too, wore armor, black leather studded with bits of steel. His face was recently scarred, the most prominent wound being a long, pink welt that ran from just above his right eye down through his cheek. Looking closely, Maq noticed his right eye did not move, and the pupil was glassy. He wore a heavy gold chain about his neck. A large charm in the shape of a closed fist dangled from it. She suspected it was a piece of jewelry taken from the merchant's treasure cave.
As the pirate chieftain approached, his billowing red cape carefully covered his right arm, and he walked with a discernible limp. She was concerned he hid a weapon, so she brushed in front of Lendle and put her hand on the hilt of her short sword. Koraf growled deeply, the sound rumbling in his thick throat.
"You'd fight me here?" Mandracore pronounced, as he waved his left arm in an arc. Maq followed his gesture and noted shop owners looking out their windows and passersby pausing to watch. "Why, look, there's a city guard! A rare sight in Lacynos, to be sure. Maybe he'd look the other way, eh, Maquesta? Maybe he wouldn't see you run me through. Or maybe he'd see you draw your blade against this humble and respected visitor and throw you in jail-for a long time. Perhaps you'd end up in Lord Attat's dungeon. I hear he buys prisoners and puts them to work in the arena. I wonder how long you'd last there? Of course, you could ask your first mate. I hear he's a star among the lord's pit fighters."