The proclamation went on to assure us that his people respected the solemnity of our visit, mindful as they were of its “celestial significance,” amp; that of course we deserved more than just the rite of the birthig-beast. For the Court of the Lilac, nothing but “the full and sacred ceremony” was enough-at this point Vadu gestured for some reason at the drummers. “Our mizralds will not disappoint you,” he said.
Finally, the Issar (through his scroll) humbly asked us to speak well of our treatment in Masalym should we ever stand before the Resplendent One in Bali Adro, amp; swore finally that our privacy would at all times be respected.
“Our privacy?” said Rose.
There were uneasy glances among the dlomu above us. The crowd along the basin’s rim was muttering, debating the long declaration. They sounded as skeptical as we were ourselves.
Rose had had enough. “To the Pits with privacy,” he huffed. “Our ship is damaged, sir. We are taking on water. In a few days there’ll be nothing left for you to look at with civic pride but our topmasts. And one meal cannot make us forget our lack of provisions. We’re not beggars. We can pay for both-fairly, and in full. But we must request them without further delay. If you would consent to step aboard-”
“Daaak?”
The voice was like an explosion. It was one of the drum-creatures again, louder even than before. I can’t imagine the word was really meant as a question, unless it was addressed to the Gods above, who surely heard it. Rose stared, affronted; he was not used to being shouted down.
“What the blary-”
“Haaaaaaaaaan!” screamed the other creature, who had waddled up beside the first.
“Prince Olik,” sputtered Rose, “kindly-”
“Daaak?” repeated the first creature, adding a boom on his drum.
“Haaaaaaaaaan!” replied the other, deafening.
The soldiers struck the walkway with their halberds. Vadu amp; Olik bowed low. Then, as the two creatures stood gazing skyward, drumming amp; shrieking “Daaak?… Haaaaaaaaaan!” to wake the dead, the procession turned amp; marched away.
Rose started forward, shouting. Olik glanced once over his shoulder, with a certain gleam in his eye, but moved on with the rest. We swarmed along the rail, shouting at their backs. Food! Repairs! Where are you going?
“Daaak?”
“Haaaaaaaaaan!”
They left us with those screaming monstrosities. We could have scrambled somehow up to the walkway amp; given chase-but what for? We were inside a walled city in an alien land. A moment later the shore gate was sealed, amp; a heavy guard placed on it, amp; more soldiers stationed along the rim of the basin.
A great argument erupted. Taliktrum flew into a rage, declaring that we were obviously being punished collectively for Rose’s “barbaric stupidity” in subjecting Prince Olik to the knife “as your very first act since being freed from confinement.” Rose to be sure had a ready comeback, amp; his wrath extended well beyond the ixchel. Why hadn’t Bolutu intervened, amp; why hadn’t he warned us that the royal family was a hive of lunatics? When were Pathkendle, Thasha, Hercol amp; “the rest of you schemers” going to uncover the lair of the sorcerer? Why had Alyash let the Ibjen youth jump overboard, when he might have served as ransom? And so on, while those two oblivious trolls went on screaming DAAAK? HAAAAAAAAAAN! until our minds were addled with it.
I saw Bolutu pulling desperately at Rose’s sleeve, amp; drew close enough to catch what he said. But it just made things weirder: the Court of the Lilac, he shouted, was a colony of albinos, possibly mythical, amp; many thousands of miles to the east if it existed at all.
“Albino dlomu?” bellowed Rose over the din.
Bolutu assured him that was the case. For whatever reason, the Issar believed (or had anyway declared) that we were all dlomu. Just weird, colorless dlomu from unthinkably far away.
“But they’ve seen us,” shouted Undrabust. “Prince Olik’s seen us up close, and so has Ibjen.”
“Hundreds of dlomu on that walkway have seen us as well,” said Hercol, “but that does not mean the masters of this city will hear them. Sometimes those who wield great power come to believe that wishing a thing were true is enough to make it so: that nature must submit to their will, just as men do.”
“And maybe he’s keeping us on the ship, Captain,” I added, “so that we can’t make it plain to the whole city that we are human. Just a few hundred of them saw us, after all, and half of them thought we were blary ghosts.”
“What of the frog-things?” demanded Rose.
Bolutu said they were mizralds, “perfectly respectable citizens,” found throughout the Empire amp; employed (no surprise this) as heralds amp; criers. The horrid bellowing, he added, was probably a mechine, a rite of welcome, though Bolutu had never heard of one being carried on amp; on.
“They are silencing us,” said Rose, “and at the same time pretending that we’re dlomu.”
“But why should they?” asked Pathkendle.
“Think a moment,” said Thasha. “It was a disaster for the whole Empire when humans became tol-chenni. If we suddenly sail into port and start walking the streets, it could mean… well, anything.”
Pathkendle would not look at her.
“You’re right, Thasha,” said Fulbreech. “That old woman last night thought it was the end of the world.”
“Perhaps a ship full of woken humans could make some think it is the dlomu’s turn to become tol-chenni,” said Hercol. “And that would be the end of the world, for them. At the very least it may seem a threat to rulers of a frightened city in a time of war.”
All this was just speculation. We were trapped. Nor did the folk of Masalym provide us with another bite of food. They watched us, though, as the hours wore on: contingents of well-dressed dlomu arrived amp; studied us through scopes amp; field glasses; there was some argument amp; finger-pointing, too. Rose tried to signal our desperation, with shouts amp; flags amp; spoons rattling in empty bowls. He sent Bolutu to the fighting top with orders to beg loud amp; long in his own tongue. But the trolls’ infernal racket made all these efforts nigh impossible, amp; it occurred to me that this was, perhaps, the whole idea.
The water in the hold reached thirteen feet. Of course we were pumping like mad, as we’d done for the last three days. But Rose was right: it was not going to be enough. And what if they have no means of beaching us, or no real will to try?
Midafternoon, it rained. To our infinite delight the trolls scurried indoors. But we were still hungry, amp; the dlomu were still deaf to our pleas. We officers took refuge in our duties. For me that included breaking up a fight between the rival gangs (the issue was a hoarded slab of last night’s cheese), amp; getting the broken-nosed Plapp amp; split-lipped Burnscove Boy to shake amp; agree to donate the precious morsel to the steerage passengers. When the lads saw those hopeless faces, I declare they knew a moment’s shame. But they were glowering at each other before we parted.
There was walrus oil left in my lamp, so I veered off to check the seams along the starboard hull. Seepage at the waterline, of course. I scratched at the oakum with my knife. Neglect, neglect: the word tapped at my thoughts like a luffing sail.
I was on my knees in the carpenter’s tool room when I heard the door behind me close.
I spun around. Facing me stood Lord Taliktrum. He was quite alone, amp; breathing hard from the exertion of shutting the door. He had his sword drawn amp; a leather sack tied over his shoulder. He was still wearing his swallow-suit.
Hatred for the little tyrant welled up in me. I could have killed him then amp; there, merely by straightening my right leg amp; crushing him between the door amp; my boot. In another life-a life in which I’d never known Diadrelu-I would have.
“Quartermaster,” he said, grimacing to bend his voice. “I must speak to you. It has been tremendously difficult to catch you alone.”
“Most folk just barge into my cabin,” I said.
He untied the sack amp; let it fall. Then he sheathed his sword. “I did not draw my blade to threaten you,” he said. “There was a scrabbling noise in the passageway. I am surprised you did not hear it.”
“Mice,” I said. “The rats are well and truly dead.”
He watched me, dubious. “Your position is unique on this ship,” he said at last. “Alone of all the officers,
