Canticle

the trailhead that led to the village. Drums announcing the new kin-clave were already pulsing through the jungle, and smoke from the massive cook-fires smudged the morning sky. “Go and find friends,” he said. “But don’t forget your manners and your lessons.”

Laughing, they spilled from the boat and raced up the beach, the oldest hanging back to keep their eyes on the youngest. Vlad Li Tam watched them go as the oarsmen pushed off and turned back for the anchored ships in the harbor.

Three of his ships were already steaming farther south, each adding to their maps and gathering the data necessary to determine their next stop. He would send another three now that kin-clave here was established. They would find the largest, most populated islands, observe the inhabitants from a distance and compile those findings for his inspection.

The remaining half dozen vessels would take what maintenance rotation they could without a dry dock and guard House Li Tam’s work in the village.

His daughter smiled at him. “How did it go?”

“It was fine. I will need more powders soon.”

She shook her head. “Strange customs,” she said.

Not so strange, he thought. He’d sent his sons and daughters into hundreds of beds to form alliances and gather information. Their courtesan activities were not even well-kept secrets in the Named Lands. “Perhaps more straightforward than we’re accustomed to,” he said as he looked out across the water. He looked back to her. “What are your plans?”

“Baryk and I will attend the feast together,” she said. “Then he will scout the island with our oldest sons.”

Baryk had been a warpriest on the southernmost tip of the Emerald Coasts, the massive peninsula that was home to House Li Tam and a scattering of tropical city-states and loose confederations. When Vlad had announced his family’s retreat from the Named Lands, they had given away their possessions and lands to join him. All but one of his children-even those who’d left his service to pursue independent lives with their own families-had returned home at his call. And he was grateful for it. It spared him the grief of assassination.

“Perhaps I will join them,” Vlad Li Tam said.

Rae Li Tam smiled. “You may be too busy honoring kin-clave.” She patted her satchel. “Meanwhile, I’ve pharmaceuticals that are running low and a list of flora samples to collect.”

He nodded. “Keep an eye out for kalla plants,” he said.

“Of course I will, Father.” She inclined her head and, once he returned the gesture, set off down the beach slowly, passing the trailhead and moving west along the coast.

Vlad Li Tam sighed and stretched, then turned to the next long-boat that approached, also full of children. Behind it, others came bearing the Tam contribution to the feast. It would take most of the morning to disembark the first shift of his family. They would go slowly, letting the Dayfather’s tribe have time to accustom themselves to the pale-skinned travelers from the northeast. By tomorrow, the Tams would outnumber the tribe on the island, but all knew to underemphasize this fact, staying aloof and keeping their large numbers spread out over the island. They would also make many gifts over the next fortnight, and there would be other pairings among his sons and daughters and the Dayfather’s people. These were not required for kin-clave but would certainly strengthen the bonds. And at no time would the Tam presence here give way to violence or compulsion.

While intimidation had its place, it was not always conducive to gathering intelligence.

A flash of light caught his eye, and he looked to the bow of their flagship, The Serendipitous Wind. He read the second half of the coded message and waited for it to repeat. He followed the code, deciphering the words and numbers quickly.

His First Son’s vessel, Spirit of the Storm, had found something four days to the south. Something, it seemed, that required his attention.

He drew his mirror and replied. Even before he’d finished, he saw a boat lowered and watched his First Grandson take the oars. He came alone, his long red hair flowing behind him on the wind.

He will be a worthy successor. At some point, the mantle would pass to his First Son and, when his First Son was ready to lay it down, Mal Li Tam would take it up. He’d had the best education the world could offer, spending his early years in the Orphan School of Windwir. Introspect had arranged it for him during the first year of his papacy, not long after helping Petronus escape the city and the Order under a shroud of deception. At the time, Vlad Li Tam had had no idea that his own father had set those wheels into motion before turning House Li Tam over to Vlad nearly two decades earlier.

Armed with wits and cunning that perhaps only matched Vlad’s own father, Mal Li Tam had made his mark in the Named Lands quietly. He’d brought about a dozen unlikely alliances and broken half as many-some stretching back to the Days of Settlement-as he served his grandfather and father in the House business. Named for a pirate that had saved his father’s life, Mal Li Tam was the sharpest in House Li Tam’s quiver of arrows.

What will you inherit when my work is done? It was hard to say. Time was a cipher that Vlad Li Tam understood well. The precepts of T’Erys Whym, upon which his House had been built, were that with enough time and pressure even a river could be moved in such a way as to appear without design. But time was an enemy as well as an ally. He was seventy-two now and knew that he was measuring the depth-line in spans now, not leagues. He had closed down House Li Tam, donating the majority of his vast holdings and wealth over to the Order, knowing full well that Petronus would pass the Order’s holdings and wealth, in turn, over to Rudolfo.

And my forty-second daughter. She should be delivering soon, he realized. He’d counted the days and had started a dozen poems to honor the little Lord Jakob’s arrival into a troubled world.

He watched Mal Li Tam hop easily over the bow of the skiff and drag the boat up onto the beach behind him. He was barefoot and bare-chested, wearing only a pair of loose-fitting silk pants. He smiled as he approached.

“Grandfather,” he said, inclining his head.

Vlad returned the bow. “And how is my First Grandson this morning?”

Mal looked at the empty hammock and the hastily constructed lean-to, his smile widening. “More rested than you, I’d wager, Grandfather.”

Vlad chuckled. “Perhaps I’ll nap today.” He glanced back to the ship. “So what have they found?” he asked.

“Father didn’t say.” He reached into a hidden pocket on his pants and drew a stained and crumpled scroll.

Vlad took it and opened it, reading the coded message twice before handing it back. The handwriting was true, though the note had been written hastily with a shaking hand. And the note itself had little to say. The dots and smudges of the Tam cipher script pointed to a set of coordinates beyond their current maps, and there was a buried urgency that whatever they had found bore Vlad’s personal inspection. But the urgency didn’t speak of danger.

He looked up, meeting his grandson’s eyes. “We’ll leave when the feast is over tonight-just one ship. But send a bird to the other two southern patrols and retask them to meet us there. You will be joining me.”

A look on Mal’s face betrayed something that the old man could not place. “Do you think three vessels are enough?”

Vlad Li Tam smiled and patted Mal’s shoulder. “If there had been any significant threat your father would have said so. Still, see to the armory and pick a crew that can hold their own by sea and by land. I intend you to captain this voyage.”

Mal Li Tam bowed more deeply. “Thank you, Grandfather. You honor me.”

Vlad Li Tam returned the bow. “And make an appearance at the feast,” he said with a wink. “You never know when you’ll be called upon to do your part for kin-clave.”

Smiling, the young man nodded and turned back to his boat. Vlad watched him as he pushed the skiff off the sand and hopped lightly inside. Pulling at the oars, he rowed against the tide and Vlad Li Tam watched, taking pleasure in the sight of his grandson rowing in the morning sun. He would have watched him longer, but more longboats were landing around him now-more grandchildren, more sons and daughters. The heat rose, shimmering over the sand and hazing the jungle.

Soon, he would nap in his hammock and gather strength for the coming feast. And maybe, in his dreams, he would see his newest grandson, Jakob. The first of his grandchildren who would not take the name of House Li