The Night of the Swarm

The man did not speak a word of the Urnsfich tongue: Pazel had called him a dung-eating sow, and got a vague grin in return. Pazel glanced at his shipmates. Lady Oggosk was chewing her lips, furiously impatient: she knew. So did Neeps and Hercol and Felthrup. Sergeant Haddismal was less certain, but more threatening: he stood behind Vancz, sighing like a hippopotamus, his massive hands on the rescued man’s chair. Each time Vancz leaned back he met the Turach’s knuckles.

Pazel glanced at Thasha. For some reason she looked ready to laugh.

‘This truly is the Great Ship,’ said Vancz for the third time, ‘but how can it be? You struck a reef off Talturi. You went down with all hands. I saw the story in the Mariner. I’ll never forget it. That awful summer of Nine-Forty-One. Just before the start of the war.’

His listeners moved uneasily. The start of the war, thought Pazel. He’s already forgetting it. Rin’s eyes, but this is going to be hard.

‘Tell me, Vancz,’ said Fiffengurt, ‘do you have much trouble with our lads in uniform, out Urnsfich way? I mean the Imperial navy?’

‘What, Arqual’s navy? Why should we have any feud with them, Captain?’

No one answered. Vancz looked at his men again. ‘Why are you all staring at me?’ he blurted at last. ‘What kind of rescue is this? And what in Rin’s name was that creature on your topdeck — you called it a Bolutu — that black thing with fishy eyes?’

‘Smack him!’ said Lady Oggosk. ‘The man answers questions with questions! You should have left him squirming in the sea!’

‘Now Duchess, have a heart,’ said Fiffengurt. ‘Captain Vancz, when a man does you a good turn, you ought to be generous awhile. If he asks something small of you, for instance, you hand it over with a smile. Call it plain gratitude, if you like.’

‘The principle of reciprocity!’ squeaked Felthrup.

‘The principle of intelligence,’ said Haddismal.

Vancz looked at his hands. ‘Right you are, Captain Fiffengurt. And I do hope I can show you a little intelligence. The kind any skipper from Arqual has a right to expect.’

Pazel started: something in the man’s voice had thrown open a door. Arqual. He gets more nervous every time he speaks the word.

Fiffengurt pressed on. ‘Those bits of hull we found floating all around you — they weren’t from cannon- fire?’

Vancz looked shocked. ‘But of course not! We’ve seen no combat, sir. We’re neutral in the whole affair.’

‘What affair?’

Vancz started, closed his mouth.

‘Would you indulge us,’ said Hercol, ‘by naming the date?’

‘The date?’

‘Today’s date, you prevaricating worm!’ shrieked Oggosk. She exploded to her feet and hobbled towards him. Vancz looked rather more afraid of her than of Haddismal.

‘Modoli the twenty-sixth!’ he said. ‘Or the twenty-seventh; I can’t swear I didn’t lose a day in the storm! Rin’s blessings, lady, there’s no need to — Ouch!’

Lady Oggosk had poked him in the eye. ‘No need! If Captain Rose were still alive you’d be dangling from the main yard by your thumbs! We are on a mission of death, you bit of flotsam, and you’re spreading lies thick as kulberry jam! Fiffengurt, if you won’t get the truth out of this man let the tinshirts get it for you. Glaya Lorgus! I never thought I’d miss Sandor Ott!’

At the mention of the spymaster the man visibly paled. Then Thasha put a hand on Oggosk’s arm. She was laughing, now. ‘Duchess, stop,’ she said. ‘There’s no need for any of this. Commander, you’re a navy officer yourself. Don’t bother to deny it.’

‘But my dear lady-’

‘Not you,’ said Thasha. She pointed at the older, grey-bearded survivor of the wreck. ‘He’s the man you should be talking to, Captain Fiffengurt.’

The old fellow gaped at her, eyes wide with amazement.

‘The beard almost threw me,’ said Thasha, ‘but I know you now. My father used to point you out in parades.’

‘P-parades?’ gasped the bearded man.

‘What’s going on here?’ barked Haddismal. ‘You’re saying he’s Vancz?’

‘There isn’t any Vancz,’ said Thasha. ‘This man’s name is Darabik, Purston Darabik. Why have you been lying to us, Commodore?’

‘Darabik?’ said Captain Fiffengurt.

‘Darabik?’ Haddismal straightened his back.

Another stunned pause. Then Lady Oggosk shrieked the name a third time, hobbled over to the old man and starting beating him about the face.

‘Stop, stop!’ cried the old man.

‘Darabik!’ cried Oggosk. ‘You chased Captain Rose across the seas for thirteen years! You made our lives a living hell!’

‘Of course I did!’ The man’s voice and bearing had utterly changed. ‘Rose was a common criminal! He swindled everyone from the Chathrand’s owners to the Boy Prince of Fulne!’

‘He saved our lives, over and over,’ said Pazel. I guess he was a criminal, but there was nothing common about him.’

The one they had called Vancz looked fearful. ‘Sir, I told ’em just what you said — they muddled me-’

‘Drink your grog and be quiet, you — Ouch! Gods damn it, Fiffengurt, can’t you get this pet vulture of yours under control?’

‘Is that an order, Commodore?’

‘It blary well is! Flaming devils, where did this mad ship come from?’

Then, for the first time, Ramachni spoke. ‘She came from across the Ruling Sea. Your Emperor Magad launched her, and Magad’s operatives held sway aboard her for many thousands of miles. But all is changed today. From Captain Rose to the youngest tarboy, from Brother Bolutu to the ixchel, we have all forged new alliances. Our loyalties evolved. That is one reason we are still alive.’

‘Sandor Ott’s loyalties evolved?’

Ramachni shook his head sadly. ‘No, not his.’

Darabik’s mouth twisted. ‘You see now why I did not announce myself. Lady Thasha, from you alone will I beg forgiveness for this act. We thought you dead. And even when the witch’s dreams told us other wise, we still thought you a prisoner of these people.’

Thasha stepped towards him, barely breathing. ‘We?’ she said.

Darabik nodded. ‘I speak of the leadership of our rebellion, Lady Thasha. Including its military commander, Prince Eberzam Isiq.’

Thasha cried out, laughing and sobbing at once. Her friends embraced her, and Felthrup gave a piercing squeal. Pazel had no idea what minor queen or princess Admiral Isiq had married, but who cared? Thasha’s father was alive.

‘Rebellion, is it?’ Haddismal moved to the cabin door and flung it open. ‘You there, marines! Draw and enter! All of you, move!’

Move the Turachs did. In seconds there were twenty or more shoving into Rose’s cabin with swords in hand.

‘Our loyalties haven’t evolved either,’ growled Haddismal. ‘We serve the Ametrine Throne, and will do so ’til our hands drop the swords. Be careful, mage.’

‘I have never been otherwise in your presence, Sergeant. But I think you will find the commodore’s visit an act of providence. At least, I hope you will.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Darabik stood abruptly. His eyes were hawklike in their ferocity: all pretence had dropped away. ‘It means,’ he said, ‘that for years I have placed myself before men like you, and called on them to