It didn’t last, though. ‘Ven, where the hell have you been?’ Vetriz ambushed him as he walked back across the courtyard. ‘Ranvaud Doce is here, he’s been waiting for nearly an hour.’
Venart stopped and looked at her. ‘Who?’
‘Ranvaud Doce. You idiot, he’s the new chairman of the Ship-Owners’.’
‘Oh. What does he want to see me for?’
Vetriz didn’t even bother to answer that. ‘And you’d better get rid of him quick, because Ehan Stampiz’ll be here at noon, and if those two run into each other, I don’t want to be anywhere near. And when are we going to write your speech?’
Venart glowered at her. ‘I am not making a speech,’ he said.
‘I haven’t got time to argue with you now,’ Vetriz said. ‘Doce is in the counting house. Oh, don’t just stand there looking pathetic.’
Ranvaud Doce turned out not to be Ranvaud Doce at all; he was Ranvaut Votz (Vetriz had got the name wrong; she wasn’t very patient with names), and of course Venart had known him for years. ‘Gods, you look shattered,’ Votz said. ‘Sit down before you fall down, and have a drink.’
‘Brandy,’ Venart replied. ‘The white jug, on the side there.’
‘Say when.’
‘Whenever.’
The brandy helped, to a certain limited extent; but it was the kind of help that’s probably counterproductive before noon on a busy day. ‘Better not have any more,’ Venart said ruefully, after he’d recovered from the burn, ‘or I’ll go straight to sleep. So, what can I do for you?’
Votz raised his eyebrows. ‘Full marks, Ven,’ he replied. ‘You said that as if you really don’t know.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Don’t be aggravating. Playing games is fine for business negotiations, but it’s not really appropriate for a head of state.’
‘Oh for-’ Venart slammed his cup down a little too hard, and the thinly skived horn cracked under the pressure of his thumb. ‘Not you as well. Come on, Ran, you know perfectly well I’m not the head of anything. For gods’ sakes, I’m not even head of this household; you’ve seen how Triz pushes me around-’
‘Proves nothing.’ Votz took the smile deliberately off his face. ‘I know,’ he went on, ‘the truth is, you had next to nothing to do with what happened. You didn’t even show up till halfway through – not that I’m blaming you, that’s just the way it was. But for some reason, people think you were the leader of the rebellion, and now they think you’re leading some kind of state-of-emergency government. And what I say is, why not? I mean, you’re a pretty harmless sort of man, you won’t try to do anything silly or throw your weight around – just the sort of leader this country needs.’
‘Thank you very much.’
‘You’re welcome. But we do need a little bit of a government, Ven; just the ears and the tip of the tail. Otherwise, how’s the Ship-Owners’ going to get things done?’
Venart frowned. ‘Oh, I see,’ he said. ‘You and your bunch of deadheads from the back bar of the Fortune and Favour are going to be the real government, and I’m going to get all the blame. No, thank you very much. Weren’t you bloody Ship-Owners the ones who started all this off by trying to shaft the provincial office for more money?’
Votz held up his hand. ‘That was then,’ he said. ‘And you were one of us, remember; just as much to blame as anybody. But,’ he added, as Venart tried to object, ‘agonising over that isn’t going to get ships on the water or food in the barns. You do realise there’s next to nothing left to eat on this confounded island? Not after those bastards took it all with them.’
Venart stayed quiet. He hadn’t thought about that.
‘So,’ Votz went on, ‘we need to do something quick, before the situation gets dirty on us. The question is, who’s “we” in that context? One thing’s for sure, we can’t go merrily sailing off into the wide blue yonder on our own, not if we want to have a mayfly’s chance of coming back; put in anywhere where the provincial office has so much as a commercial attache, and the next thing you’ll see is the inside of a cell. So, if we want to go anywhere, we’ve got to go in strength, in convoy; but we can’t all go, or who’s going to stay here and make sure there’ll be somewhere for us to come back to? We need to be organised; and that’s precisely the sort of job the Ship-Owners’ is for.’
Venart nodded. ‘All right, I agree,’ he said. ‘So go away and form a government. Who’s going to stop you, since it’s in everybody’s interest? Not me, for sure.’
‘You really don’t know, do you? The Guild, that’s who. Now, if you’re looking for a genuine threat to our way of life, you wander down to the Drutz and take a good look.’
Venart looked confused. ‘Who’s the Guild?’ he asked.
‘Oh boy.’ Votz shook his head. ‘As head of state, if anything, you’re over qualified. The Merchant Seamen’s Guild, my friend; a nasty rabble of ungrateful rope-jockeys and cabin rats who’ve already stated their intention of stealing our ships – commandeered for the public good, they’re calling it, which is pig-Perimadeian for “steal” and that’s all there is to it – and making us pay them taxes for the privilege. That’s why we need a head of state, my friend; someone who’s not the Ship-Owners’ who’ll tell them not to be so damn stupid. And who better than the inspirational leader, war hero, architect of victory-’
‘Oh, shut up, Ran.’
‘Yes, but they don’t know that.’ Votz shrugged. ‘The people out there on the streets believe all that stuff is true, and really, that’s what matters. Do you want them stealing your ship and taking your money off you at spearpoint? Might as well ask the Empire back again and have done with it.’
‘All right,’ Venart sighed, ‘you’ve made your point.’ He slumped back in his chair, looking wretched. ‘Just out of interest,’ he continued, ‘do you and your chums in the Ship-Owners’ have any constructive, practical ideas about how to get some food? Or haven’t you got around to the finer points yet?’
Votz clicked his tongue. ‘There’s no need to be sarcastic, ’ he said. ‘As a matter of fact, we have.’
‘All right. If I’m your new Crown Prince, the least you can do is let me in on the secret.’
‘Simple,’ Votz said. ‘It stands to reason, if Gorgas Loredan went to all that trouble to help us get rid of the Imperials -’
‘Have you any idea why-?’
‘- Then he won’t be averse to selling us a few ship-loads of grain and salt pork, especially if the price is right. And Tornoys is in the right direction, away from the Empire; we’ll have to sail pretty close to Shastel, of course, but if we’re in a convoy that shouldn’t be a problem.’
‘I suppose not,’ Venart conceded. ‘But he gives me the creeps, that man. I’m not sure why, he just does.’
‘Well, that’s your problem. While we’re there, I fully intend to talk to him about hiring a few of those crackerjack archers of his; another thing we’re definitely going to need is some sort of militia, and since none of us know squat about the trade, it’d be a good idea to hire someone who can teach us.’
Venart closed his eyes. ‘Steady on,’ he said. ‘Exactly who did you have in mind for this army of yours?’
‘Well, us, of course,’ Votz replied patiently. ‘And it’s not an army, it’s a militia. Quite different.’
‘All right, it’s different. But by “us”, do you mean us Islanders, or us Ship-Owners, or what?’
‘Well, I’m not going to put weapons into the hands of the Guild, if that’s what you mean,’ Votz replied, as if explaining to a small child that fire is hot. ‘I mean us, the responsible adult male population of the Island. We don’t need those layabouts in the Guild; I mean, when the fighting was on, where were they? Cowering in a lock-up. Fat lot of good they were, until we came along and turned them loose.’
‘Wonderful,’ Venart muttered. ‘First you want a government, then an army, now you’re planning a civil war. This state of yours is growing faster than water-cress. All right,’ he added quickly, ‘spare me the reasoning. I agree, yes, it does seem like ordinary common sense to be able to defend ourselves if we’re likely to have the provincial office coming after us any time soon. Though to be honest with you,’ he continued, frowning, ‘if they do decide to come back, I can’t see that we stand a chance. We were lucky the last time, and they were disgracefully complacent. I think fighting them once they’ve got their act together really would be asking for trouble.’