'What about brothers?' Pazel asked. 'Do you have any?'
When Neeps did not answer, Pazel looked up. To his great surprise he saw that Neeps was furious.
'Just don't talk to me about brothers,' he said.
That's a yes, Pazel thought, but he spoke not a word.
After a moment, Neeps said, 'Your turn. Family.'
Pazel told him about the day of the invasion, how he had never seen his mother and sister since. 'But Chadfallow, that doctor I was telling you about, says they're alive. He was very fond of my mother.'
'So where is she?'
'He wouldn't say. But he said he planned to see them. And I think he meant to help me do so, too.'
Neeps squinted up at the sun. 'Right. This is the same chap who put something nasty in your tea. Who paid that lout of a bosun to maroon you in Sorrophran. Who galloped along a headland shouting that you should jump ship. And who never bothered to tell your family that the Arqualis were about to invade Ormael. Have I forgotten anything?'
'He bought me out of slavery,' said Pazel.
Neeps gave a judicious nod. 'It all adds up, then. He's madder than a boiled owl.'
'Probably,' said Pazel. 'But he also knows something-about my family, and the treaty with the Mzithrin, and this whole journey to Simja. There are big secrets on this ship, Neeps.'
'Ooooh-'
Pazel flicked a blob of brass-cleaner at him. 'Undrabust means 'broken toe' in Kushali, did you know that? I'm not kidding!'
'Pathkendle means 'smelly tarboy who dreams about rich girls.' Did you know that?'
They flung insults, goo and rags, never happier. The spar teetered madly, but somehow they were no longer afraid. Then a sharp voice from above made them freeze.
'What's this? A playground? You lowborn rats! Wastin' time and 'spensive re-zor-ziz!'
It was Mr. Swellows, the bosun: of all the officers save Uskins, the one Pazel most disliked. His bloodshot eyes glared down at them: he was a heavy drinker, rumor held. He claimed special knowledge of Captain Rose's thoughts and intentions, grinning slyly but revealing very little. He had been in Rose's service twenty years.
'Hoist them two up 'ere!' he barked at the stern watchmen. 'Pathkendle! Wash that smutch off your hands! The captain wants to see you.'
Neeps shot Pazel a look of concern. The spar lurched upward. A moment later they were climbing over the rail.
'Captain Rose wants me?' Pazel asked, alarmed. 'What for, Mr. Swellows?'
'The Red Beast.'
'Sir?'
Swellows looked at him with crafty delight. He leaned closer, made a clawing motion in the air. 'The Red Beast! That's what we call him! Just hope you're not his prey, he he he!'
'You may enter now,' said Rose, cleaning his pen on a blotter.
But it was not, as he had guessed, the Imperial Mailguard. It was Uskins, and his hand gripped the arm of Pazel Pathkendle, who looked as though he had just been roughly shaken.
'Your pardon, Captain,' said the first mate. 'It is six bells: I report as ordered. And I found this particularly troublesome boy lingering in the passage.'
'Bring him in. Close the door.'
Uskins shoved Pazel into Rose's day-cabin, a large and elegant room beneath the quarterdeck, where the captain not only conducted his desk-duties but also bathed, shaved and dined, with invited favorites, from a silver service as old as the ship itself. The first mate closed the door and dragged Pazel with superfluous brutality across the room.
'Lest I forget, sir: the good veterinarian, Brother Bolutu'-Uskins' voice dripped with ridicule-'accosted me this morning. 'Mr. Uskins,' says he, 'I have a letter for the captain regarding certain peculiar qualities of the rats on this ship. I should like to inform you as well.' He then began to chatter about the rats' 'disciplined behavior,' if you will believe it, sir.'
'I will not,' said Rose. 'But I have read his letter.'
'Oppo, Captain. Stand straight, tarboy! You're in the commander's presence! Sir, may I congratulate you on your reception at the throne of our Emperor?'
'You may do nothing that distracts you from an account of this afternoon,' said Rose. 'As for this tarboy, he is here at my orders.'
'Very good of you, sir: he is morbidly implicated in this affair. But even a tarboy deserves to hear the reason for his doom. Is it not so?'
'Give me your blary report!'
Uskins bowed his head, like a schoolboy preparing a recitation. His account was, to say the least, creative. He told the captain how the augrongs had suddenly run amok; how the long-eared one had rushed onto the ship, dragging twenty men with it; and how he, Uskins, managed to avert a catastrophe thanks to his grasp of the augrong language.
'Or play-language, rather,' he added. 'These brutes have no real speech as we know it. They are but little risen above the animals.'
Rose sat back in his chair. One hand moved thoughtfully in his beard. 'Dumb brutes, eh?' he said.
'I guarantee it, Captain. Great scaly apes, they are, with little more to their grasp of living than food, work and pain.'
'And you employed which of these?'
'Why, pain, sir. I let them know that they would be killed, slowly, if they could not behave in a manner acceptable to civilized men. I very nearly had them tamed when this useless boy went mad and threw himself at the near one.
'I saw at once that he would be killed, and it moved my heart, sir, despite his wicked stupidity. I do not claim to have chosen wisely, but I chose to save this boy. I rushed to the quarterdeck rail and struck the augrong with a capstan bar. I repeated that he and his friend ashore would die. I saw into the brute's mind, and knew he believed me. He let the boy go. It was then, sir, that you reached the Plaza.'
Pazel could only gape at Uskins' tale. Nor did the captain, nodding slowly, look very inclined to let Pazel speak. As he watched, Rose opened a ledger-the same in which Fiffengurt had recorded the tarboys' names as they were dragged before him by the marines-and flipped through the rough pages, scowling.
'What would you have us do with the boy, Uskins?'
The first mate cleared his throat. 'A broken cleat must be replaced, sir, and it is no different with a tarboy. The Ormali are notoriously low and treacherous, moreover: I beg leave to remind the captain that I objected to his inclusion from the first. As it is we are lucky to have discovered his true colors in port-and in port he should remain. I suggest he be dismissed as a rioter.'
'He'll never sail again.'
'Nor should he, Captain. A fit of lunacy on the high seas could bring disaster.'
Rose looked down at the ledger. He dipped the pen in the still-open inkwell, scratched entries by several names. After a long pause, he said, 'I have your report, Uskins. You may go. Send in the clerk to deal with this lad.'
Uskins could not quite suppress his smile. He bowed low. As he turned to leave, a thought seemed to strike him. 'His clothes were burned, sir. Verminous. Of course, we shall wish to repossess his uniform, barely used as it is, but I'm sure some rag or other can be-'
In one violent motion Rose pushed to his feet. 'We will not repossess his uniform, but supplement it with a cap and greatcoat. The boy will not be put ashore. I did not witness what occurred on deck, Uskins, but Ambassador Isiq had a clear view, and saw his actions not as madness but exceptional courage. He wishes to congratulate the boy in person, and to pay for the cap and coat himself. His Excellency's opinion of your conduct we will discuss another time. You are dismissed.'
Abashed and fuming, Uskins left. Rose stood looking fixedly at Pazel, and Pazel stared back, wide-eyed and disbelieving. He was to meet the ambassador? What should he say? What would Rose expect of him?
The captain's steward brought in a plate of kulberries and almonds, and set it on the desk with a bow. 'No
