"My life and fortunes are at stake," said Stragos, rising from his chair. "And so are yours, dependent upon your success. I require butchers, not jesters. Take ships within sight of my city's walls. Put their crews to the sword. Take their cargo or burn it — the time has come to be serious. That and that alone will stir this city to its foundations.
"Do not return," he said, emphasizing every word, "until you have spilled blood in these waters. Until you have become a scourge." "So be it," said Locke. "Another sip of our antidote—" "No." "If you wish us to work with absolute confidence—"
"You will keep," said Stragos, "like pickled eggs in a jar. it has been less than two weeks since your last dose. You are in no danger for six more."
"But— Wait, Archon." Jean interrupted him as he was turning to leave. "One thing more. When we came to this city on the night of the Festa, we were attacked again." Stragos's eyes narrowed. "The same assassins as before?"
"If you mean the same mystery, yes, we think so," said Jean. "Some lurked in wait for us at the docks after we visited Requin. If they received a tip-off concerning our presence in the city, they moved damned fast."
"And the only place we went," added Locke, "before visiting the Golden Steps was here."
"My people had nothing to do with it," said Stragos. "Indeed, this is the first I have heard of the matter." "We left four dead behind us," said Jean.
"Unremarkable. The constables found nearly thirty bodies throughout the city after the Festa; there are always arguments and robberies to supply them." Stragos sighed. "Obviously, this is nothing of my doing, and I have nothing more to tell you on the matter. I presume you'll be returning straight to your ship when you leave." "At speed," said Locke. "Staying as far from the islands as we can."
"The complications of some previous malfeasance have come back to ensnare you," said Stragos. "Now leave. No more antidote and no more consultation. You extend your lease on fair health again only once you send panicked merchants to my gates, begging for help because death lurks beyond these harbours. Go now and do your job." He whirled and left without a further word. A moment later a squad of Eyes marched in through the main door and waited expectantly. "Well, damn," muttered Jean.
11
"We'll get the bastard," said Ezri as they lay together in her cabin that night. The Poison Orchid, now calling itself the Mercurial, was treading heavy seas about twenty miles south-west of Tal Verrar, and the two of them clung to one another as they rocked back and forth in the hammock.
"With difficulty," said Jean. "He won't see us now until we do some serious work on his behalf… and if we do that, we might push things to the point where he no longer needs us. We'll get a knife rather than an antidote. Or… if it comes to that, he'll get the knife—" "Jean, I don't want to hear that," she said. "Don't talk about it." "It's got to be faced, love—"
"I don't believe it," she said. "I don't. There's always a way to attack or a way to escape. That's the way it is out here." She rolled over on top of him and kissed him. "I told you not to give up, Jean Tannen, and the thing about me is I get my way." "Gods," whispered Jean, "how did I ever live before I met you?"
"Sadly, poorly, miserably," she said. "I make everything so much better. It's why the gods put me here. Now stop moping and tell me something pleasant!" "Something pleasant?"
"Yeah, slackwit, I" ve heard that other lovers sometimes tell one another pleasant things when they're alone—" "Yes, but with you it's sort of on pain of death, isn't it?" "It could be. Let me find a sabre—"
"Ezri," he said with sudden seriousness. "Look — when this is over, Stragos and all, Leocanto and I might be… very rich men. If our other business in Tal Verrar goes well." "Not if," she said. "When."
"All right," he said. "When it does… you really could come with us. Leo and I spoke about it a bit. You don't have to choose one life or another, Ezri. You can just sort of… go on leave for a bit. We all could." "What do you mean?" "We could get a yacht," said Jean, "in Vel Virazzo, there's this place — the private marina, where all the swells keep their boats and barges. They usually have a few for sale, if you" ve got a few hundred solari on hand, which we intend to. We have to go to Vel Virazzo anyway, to sort of… finish our business. We could have a boat fitted out in a couple of days and then just… poke around a bit! Drift. Enjoy ourselves. Pretend to be useless gentlefolk for a while." "And come back to all this later, you mean?"
"Whenever you want," said Jean. "Have it as you like. You always get your way, don't you?
"Live on a yacht for a while with you and Leocanto," she said. "No offence, Jean, you're passable for a landsman, but by his own admission he couldn't con a shoe across a puddle of piss—" "What do you think we" d be bringing you along for, hmmm?"
"Well, I would have imagined that this had something to do with it," she said, moving her hands strategically to a more interesting location.
"Ah," he said, "and so it does, but you could sort of be honorary captain, too—" "Can I name the boat?" "As if you" d let anyone else do it!"
"All right," she whispered. "If that's the plan, that's the plan. We'll do it." "You really mean—"
"Hell," she said, "with just the swag we pulled from Salon Corbeau, everyone on this crew can stay drunk for months when we get back to the Ghostwinds. Zamira won't miss me for a while." They kissed. "Half a year." They kissed again. "Year or two, maybe."
"Always a way to attack," Jean mused between kisses, "always a way to escape."
"Of course," she whispered. "Hold fast, and sooner or later you'll always find what you're after."
12
Jaffrim Rodanov paced the quarterdeck of the Dread Sovereign in the silvery-orange light of earliest morning. They were bound north by west with the wind on the starboard quarter, about forty miles southwest of Tal Verrar. The seas were running at five or six feet.
Tal Verrar. Haifa day's sailing to the city thed'r avoided like a colony of slipskinners these past seven years; to the home of a navy that could crush even his powerful Sovereign if roused to anger. The was no genuine freedom in these waters, only a vague illusion. Fat merchant ships he could never touch; a rich city he could never sack. Yet he could live with that. It was grand, provided only that the freedom and the plunder of the southern seas could remain available.
"Captain," said Ydrena, appearing on deck with a chipped clay mug of her usual brandy-laced morning tea in one hand, "I don't mean to ruin a fine new morning—"
"You wouldn't be my first if I needed my arse kissed more than I needed my ship sailed."
"We made great time coming up, but now we've been a week out here without a lead, Captain."
"We've seen two dozen sail of merchants, luggers and pleasure-galleys just these past two days," said Rodanov, "and we have yet to see a naval ensign. There's still time to find her." "No quarrel with that logic, Captain. It's the finding her that's—" "A royal pain in the arse. I know."