Rahl could sense that she was taken aback at his words although she said nothing for several steps. Then she paused and continued to look at the ship.
So did Rahl, although he tried to use his order-senses as much as his eyes. The diffuse whiteness of chaos did not seem either stronger or weaker than when he had observed the ship before, and that suggested that it was either a part of the ship-or of cargo that had not been off-loaded.
“You’re using order-sensing. What does it tell you?”
“There’s something chaotic there, but I can’t tell if it’s the ship or cargo. It’s not the crew, though.”
“Could be explosives or powder. Sometimes they sense like chaos. That’s what Hewart says.”
“If they’re really pirates, they’d have cannon…” Rahl studied the hull more closely. “It looks like the shinier sections below the railing-they’re smaller.”
“Those are concealed cannon ports. You’re probably sensing the powder in the magazines.”
That was likely, but Rahl had his doubts that was all he sensed.
“I don’t like it that they’ve been here an eightday. Ships don’t make coins tied up for long periods in port, even pirate vessels. They could be waiting for a ship to leave, one with a profitable cargo, maybe the Brystan.”
Rahl could tell that she wasn’t convinced by her own words.
Abruptly, she turned. “Nothing will happen this early. We might as well finish the first tour, and then we’ll leave a watch report with the duty desk.”
Again, Rahl had to hurry for several steps to catch up with her. After even such a short time, Myala was wearing on him. He wondered how her consort stood it, but maybe he needed the time when she was on duty to recover from her presence.
XCIV
Oneday was far different from eightday. Even by midmorning, the piers were crowded with wagons and vendors, unlike the comparative handful of sellers on eightday. There was actually a cool breeze, and the sky was bright and clear. While Rahl was grateful for the cooler and drier weather, he worried about the Jeranyi vessel still hulking at the end of pier two, with yet another set of clean-shaven guards. The diffuse white chaos that enfolded the ship seemed unchanged.
“Still the same,” noted Myala. “They’re waiting for something. That something won’t be good.”
Rahl didn’t think so, either, but what could he say, especially as a very junior mage-guard who’d been warned away from looking into his own past too closely?
As they moved away from the far end and toward the base of pier two, Rahl caught sight of the captain walking toward them, on the far side of the small tent of a vendor who was grilling kebobs of ground and spiced meat. Gheryk continued to stroll casually toward the two mage-guards before stopping and smiling broadly.
“Myala…keep on your patrol. I need a word with Rahl, and then I’ll send him back to you.”
“Yes, ser.”
Rahl could sense her puzzlement, but he was more worried about the deeper feeling of irritation and concern that Gheryk was trying to conceal behind his shields.
“The tariff enumerator wanted to know if something was happening.” Gheryk looked at Rahl with a faint smile. “I thought I told you just to watch things for a while, until you knew more.”
“Yes, ser. I haven’t pried around the Nylan Merchant Association, ser. But…the other day, when I was on the piers-Carlyse sent me out, ser-there was a teamster cleaning up some broken amphorae, and they had vinegar in them. The smell reminded me of something I’d forgotten.”
“Go ahead.” The captain’s voice was neutral.
“Just before everything happened last year, I’d noticed that the Merchant Association had received some barrels of Feyn River pickles. I remembered that because of the smell of vinegar that was spilled on the pier on sixday. I couldn’t help thinking about it, because the Association never shipped pickles, and I’d asked Daelyt-he was the head clerk. He said they’d come off a Jeranyi ship. I never had a chance to do anything, but I wanted to find out if he was telling the truth.”
“Was he?”
“Yes, ser,” Rahl admitted. “Three Jeranyi ships sent the warehouse pickles. That was what I found out from the enumerators’ manifests. Ten barrels each.”
“What does that mean to you?”
“I don’t know, ser. Except with the valuations, no one could make coins on pickles.”
“So the head of the Association was part of a Jeranyi smuggling operation. Not all that smart of him. He’s taking all the risks, and that leaves them in the clear. No wonder you ended up in Luba.”
“Yes, ser.” Rahl wanted to say that he knew there was more, but he couldn’t even guess what that might be.
“We’ll watch for that, and I’ll ask the enumerators to let me know if any Jeranyi ships off-load pickles or anything in small quantities.” Gheryk smiled almost paternally. “You’ve got a good head for this sort of thing, but you need more experience. You’ve told me, and that’s fine…but don’t do any more snooping. Just watch the ships and the piers and tell me. You understand?”
“Yes, ser.”
“Good. Now…get back on your patrol with Myala, and if she asks, and she will, tell her I was giving you another standard talk about not seeing smugglers tied to every bollard.”
“Yes, ser.” Rahl nodded politely. He could sense that the captain, while mollified to some extent, was still worried and irritated.
Myala was watching as another Hydlenese ship was maneuvering into the south inshore berth on pier three when Rahl caught up with her.
“What was that all about?”
“The captain was giving me a talk about not seeing smugglers tying up at every bollard. He also said to listen to you and not to say much until I know more.” That was mostly true, and Rahl had the feeling that, for all of her other strengths, Myala was not that good at reading feelings.
“Good advice.” She laughed, a harsh bark, and gestured toward the sleek modified schooner. “See that rig? They can put on enough sail to run down anything-or outrun most anything. It’s probably one of those pirate-smugglers that the captain told you not to look too hard for. We can’t do anything unless they break the Codex, but the crews are usually more trouble.”
She started toward the end of the pier, skirting past a vendor, when Rahl sensed pain and fear. He turned, sensing a man wrenching something from a girl behind the tent.
He sprinted toward the base of the pier, at an angle, pulling his truncheon out. The two teamsters beside a wagon jumped out of his way, as did several others.
“Thief! Thief!”
“That way!”
The man dashed toward the side of the pier, then saw Rahl. For an instant, his face froze, until he saw the truncheon, and out came two long knives. He rushed Rahl in a headlong attack.
Rahl barely had to move, stepping to his left, and striking hard enough to snap the bone above the wrist on the arm nearest him. The pain froze the man for an instant, and that was enough for Rahl to use the truncheon a second time. The second knife clanked on the stone.
Even so, the man staggered and tried to lurch away.
Rahl clipped him on the skull, pulling the blow slightly, but with enough force that the combination of order and impact was enough to leave the thief sprawled on the stone.
Rahl rolled him over and pried the purse from his limp fingers, then stood.
At that point, Myala arrived.
She looked at the two teamsters. “You two! Carry him to the gaol. Rahl, here, will show you the way. Rahl, you can write up the report there. Then go to the pier gate and wait with Hegyr, and I’ll pick you up there. It won’t hurt to have two mages there. If there’s anyone else, you might be able to sense it.”
Rahl nodded, then handed her the purse. “He took this from a girl in the tent by the vendor we were passing.”