The Night of the Swarm

uneasy. The birds have settled along the bowsprit, spattering the Goose Girl with their droppings, but when he starts to play again they rise up twittering and excited. This time they bear the Pachet away with the rest.

It is hard not to stare at the spot on the island where they disappeared. Sometimes I think I see the treetops moving, as if a wind were trapped there, or some big hand riffling the crowns. But there are other urgencies. The gangs have exploded yet again: there are two dead and twenty wounded. And a deathsmoker who lost his mind and threw himself at the augrongs, who panicked a little and squeezed him to death. And a plague of horrible green flies from the island. They have settled in the heads and bite our arses, and give us great goose-egg boils.

And there is a last thing, so terrible my hand is shaking as I write. About a week ago someone nicked a goat from the animals’ compartment. This was strange but not catastrophic: somewhere a confused and frightened sailor was hoarding goat-flesh, maybe, and no doubt the flies would soon give him away. But last night Mr Teggatz noticed a change in the stench around the water casks, and had the good sense to pry the lid open before he sipped. He howled. The goat’s head and viscera were floating there, half-decayed. The whole cask was poisoned, and so were four others beside it. The cook’s nose has saved lives — hundreds of lives, maybe; for he was about to boil up the evening broth. Is this the work of gangsters? Could they possibly have gone so far?

Whoever the culprit, we are now once again low on fresh water. All this, and Dr Chadfallow nowhere to be found. I have put eight tarboys on the hunt for him, and will have to watch my temper if I learn that he is poking about the lower decks yet again in search of his green mucking door.

Tuesday, 3 Fuinar 942.

I cannot sleep, and fear the visions that would plague me if I did. My heart is pounding. My shoes reek so badly of blood I have had to tie them up in a sack.

Last night Rose summoned us to a secret council in the galley — me, Ott, Uskins, Sergeant Haddismal, even Marila and Felthrup. Mr Teggatz was instructed to make a great deal of noise with pots and boilers. In this way Rose hoped the ixchel would not catch our words, if they still bothered to spy on us.

The meeting was a failure. It was clear to all of us that the ship would never be permitted out of the bay. Rose ordered Haddismal and Ott to pull together plans for a night assault on the island, and for once all three were in complete agreement. ‘They can throw boulders,’ said Ott, ‘but that will be of little use against Turachs dispersed among the trees. They are still just crawlies, and we are men.’

‘We have enough small craft to put two hundred on the shore at once,’ said Haddismal. Then he frowned and glanced at the spymaster. ‘Of course, that would leave us with no means to evacuate the ship.’

‘Timbers, then,’ said Ott. ‘The bay is calm, and the water warm enough. Lower some mastwood under cover of darkness, and let the men swim ashore on either side.’

The rest of us objected desperately. Marila said we should be sending gifts, not soldiers. Felthrup squeaked about shark fins in the bay.

‘And my officers have nothing to contribute?’ Rose demanded with a snarl. Uskins shook his head sorrowfully, but I cleared my throat. Our best hope was to find the ixchel stronghold on the Chathrand, I said, and to seize their food and water, along with a good number of hostages. Then we could bargain our way out of this trap.

But at this Felthrup only wailed: ‘You can’t, you can’t!’

‘Be quiet, Felthrup!’ hissed Marila. But it was too late. Rose loomed over him like a mountain, ordered him to reveal all he knew. Felthrup only shook his head and muttered, ‘Impossible, don’t try.’

Then Rose exploded. He seized Felthrup and stormed across the galley, making for the oven. Marila screamed, Teggatz sputtered and waved a spoon. And I–I drew my knife and went for the captain. I do believe I would have stabbed him in the back. Ott moved like a panther, however. I caught a glimpse of his face (grinning) before something struck my skull. Then darkness swallowed me up.

When I woke I was alone with Teggatz in the galley. ‘Out cold!’ he said, helping me up with a grin. ‘It’s Monday. Like every Monday. Every one is the same.’

‘Felthrup-’

Teggatz pointed proudly at the oven.

‘Gods of Death — no!’

I shoved him aside and flew across the room and threw down the iron door. Felthrup was in there, all right — blinking, terrified, unharmed. The oven was stone cold.

‘No plum duff,’ said Teggatz. ‘No baking on Monday. Bah hah.’

A few minutes later Marila appeared and carried Felthrup back to the stateroom. I sat there hoping Teggatz would produce his jug of rum, but he was all business tonight, readying the galley for lock-up so that he might snatch a few hours’ sleep. I’d rarely felt more wretched. The boils in my trousers were as sore as my head. ‘Where in the shade of the Blessed Tree is Dr Chadfallow?’ I asked aloud.

Teggatz closed the door behind me. I turned away and found myself facing Uskins, of all people. He was strangely lucid, and nervous in the extreme. ‘Thank Rin you’re awake,’ he said, glancing nervously about. ‘I came looking for you, Fiffengurt. I have the most terrible news.’

I felt my heart skip a beat. ‘What is it? The doctor?’

Uskins started, then shook his head. ‘I know knothing of Chadfallow.’ Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘It’s the crawlies, Fiffengurt. They’re going to sink us for certain. I’ve found the proof.’

I stared at him. ‘What sort of proof?’

‘Can’t you guess?’ he hissed sharply. ‘You know this ship as well as Rose. You tell me: how could a man sabotage her from within? Swiftly, irrevocably, leaving no time for the damage to be stopped?’

‘There ain’t no certain way.’

‘But the most likely. Think, Fiffengurt: how would you do it?’

I shook my head. ‘Maybe. . the way Old Captain Ingle sank the Blaze in Rukmast Harbour.’ He looked at me blankly. ‘Where were you in ’26, man? They say he braced a cargo jack against the keelson, and cranked it hard against the hull until a wale popped its screws.’

‘A wale.’

I pressed a hand to my throbbing head. ‘A facing timber, Uskins. A blary plank. You know what a wale is, by damn. Now what’s this news?’ He was silent for a moment, as though lost in thought. Then he looked up at me sharply. ‘What you’re describing is almost exactly what’s going to occur.’

‘Going to?’ I cried. ‘Are you bent full sideways? What did you find, and why haven’t you been shouting your daft dirty head off about it? Flaming toads, Stukey-’

He thumped me in the stomach, then clapped a hand over my mouth. He pressed his lips close to my ear.

‘Maggot,’ he said. ‘I have your peasant girl in my cabin with a death scarab on her forehead. If she screams, or moves, or I but think the command, that scarab will burn down through her skull like magma. You will not shout. You will show me this cargo jack, and help me position it. And you will deflect any questions, and send crewmembers out of our way.’

‘Who-?’

‘Not a word, not a word but to my purpose. I will give her agony before she dies. I warned her not to cry out even if it burned. I told her to think of her child.’

‘Arunis!’ I gasped.

He gave me a little frown. ‘The scarab has just burned through her skin. Next will come her skull, if you do not heed me. The cargo jack. Take me to it. I will not ask again.’

I started marching. Nightmare, nightmare. Arunis in Uskins’ body, intending to sink us at last. Arunis torturing Marila, disfiguring her. And damn him to the Pits, but she was strong enough to keep silent as her flesh burned. She could do that. He had chosen well.

‘You ruined our water, too, I suppose. With the goat innards.’

‘Be silent,’ he snarled.

My legs were wobbly. We crept down the No. 3 ladderway, then crossed to the narrow scuttle by the cable tiers. Uskins (Arunis) walked naturally at my side. He’d told me to deflect questions, but there wouldn’t be any. Nobody but Rose would question either of us; we were officers.