Bhakir's eyebrow went up. The Blessers were powerful people indeed. 'Go on.' 'This Blesser,' and Khem shook his head again, this time reaching for words. 'He's not a well man, if you know what I mean.'
'Sickly?'
'No, he's… I think he's but a step or two away from madness. He takes great pleasure in hurting things, sir. A few nights ago, we murdered a councilman's daughter for the leader's revenge. That Blesser-well, 'twas almost as pleasant for him as lying with the girl, sir.'
'You weren't caught?'
'No, sir. This group-the leader's very smart, sir. Very intelligent. I spoke with her about supporting your cause- in a very roundabout way, of course-and she's very interested.'
Bhakir could only gape. 'Her? She?'
Khem looked uncomfortable, but did not flinch from his lord's displeasure. 'Aye, milord. The leader of the splinter group is a woman. She hides behind a rough brute of a fellow, but not for much longer. The Blesser of Vengeance holds her in high regard-calls her Vengeance's Chosen. She's spent many years in Mhar herself, as a thief, so she is not a blind patriot to her country. I think we could use her. She has great goals, and I believe she is destined for bigger things than simple thievery.'
Bhakir regarded Khem with a searching gaze. The man met his lord's eyes evenly. Khem was a good and trusted spy. He had proved his worth on more than one occasion, and Bhakir knew of no better judge of character. At length, the counselor sighed.
'Then you may go ahead and reveal what we have discussed. Ally yourself with this-what is her name?'
'Marrika.'
'Marrika.' A thought struck him, and Bhakir smiled. 'She is the Chosen of Vengeance, eh? Then I have a gift for the Chosen and her followers.' He leaned forward conspiratorially. 'A dark gift, for performing dark deeds. A gift that will bear the mark of the god himself. An appropriate gift for a group of thieves who would overthrow their betters. Khem, when you return to Byrn, you will take with you the first Mharian warrior to lay foot on Byrnian soil- my first soldier.'
Khem's dark eyes were confused, but he knew better than to question. 'As you wish, my lord.'
Allika nestled in among her pile of rags and sighed contentedly. It had been a good day for eating. She'd stolen a whole loaf from the bakers, filched fruit from a market vendor, and been able to gather many pocketfuls of nuts when the crate had unexpectedly broken open as it was being loaded onto the pier.
It was too warm for a fire, and she lay back, cuddling Miss Lally. The early summer storms had come and gone, leaving the occasional wreckage of small vessels on the shoreline of Braedon like ruined skeletons. A few days ago, Allika had found one such boat, half buried in the sand, and had decided to make it her home for the time being. Every home she had was for the time being; it could change from day to day, sometimes hour to hour.
The dinghy, about eight feet long, lay on its side, providing a perfect shelter from the winds that blew in over the ocean. It was easy enough to find a few rags and blankets to further block what little chill reached the girl, and as for her personal possessions, they all fit in the small pouch that was constantly by her side. Now she huddled back, gazing out across the sea that was lit up with starlight and moonlight.
'Pretty, huh, Miss Lally?' she asked the doll.
'Mmm-hmmm!' agreed Miss Lally, using Allika's voice. The waves sounded a soothing song, and Allika felt her eyelids start to grow heavy. By force of will she kept them open. Today was Lisdae. Most ships left port on a Travsdae if they could help it; it was a 'lucky' day for travel. It usually took three or four days for a ship to reach Braedon from the neighboring port of Ilantha; hence Lisdae usually meant a lot of activity on the dock.
Allika was a good pickpocket, but her primary coin was information. She was quiet, but she had sharp ears and eyes, and more often than not gleaned something by quietly slipping around the docks. So now, though she was warm and drowsy and her belly was stretched tight with good food for the first time in days, she forced herself to stay alert.
Her diligence was rewarded. A ship came into her view, and the moon was bright enough for her to determine that it flew the flag of the lion of Mhar.
As always, for an instant, the thought of the neighboring country hurt the girl. She had come from Mhar, and not so long ago, either; come to Braedon on just such a ship. The Death Ship, it would later be called. Allika's family-her parents and her two younger brothers-had decided to travel to Byrn. Allika's father was a strong man and hoped to find better employment as a soldier; Byrn needed men to fight the Ghil to the north. But there had come with Allika's family others, not so strong. The memory of one man, pale and sickly, stuck in the girl's mind.
Disease had broken out on the ship and spread like wildfire. Those afflicted had run high fevers and had terrible visions. Allika knew she would never forget the name: cloud sickness, so dubbed for the 'clouding' of the mind. They had been forbidden to enter the port, lest the disease spread to Braedon.
For days the ship had sat in the waters, forbidden to dock, forbidden to leave. The food had run out. Allika had watched as, one by one, the dreadful illness had claimed all the members of her family. Her only solace was Miss Lally, who never got sick.
When the Byrnians finally came, it was not to find and help the survivors. It was to torch the ship and its victims- both living and dead. A terrified Allika, who had somehow been spared the ravages of the disease, had jumped overboard and swum to safety. Huddled on the sand, clutching her doll, she watched that night as the ship burned, lighting up the ocean with a dreadful crimson and golden glow. She had been the only survivor of the Death Ship, and as the long days turned into months and then years, became convinced that she was somehow 'cursed.' It was why she refused to live with any of the kinder-hearted thieves. She did not want ever again to bring sickness and death upon the heads of those whom she cared for ever again. Every time she saw a ship, for an instant, Allika saw not the true ship, but a burning ghost-ship as it sank slowly to the ocean depths; and she was reminded of how alone she and Miss Lally were-how alone they would always remain.
The ship from Mhar did not sail steadily up to the port, as was customary. This pricked Allika's curiosity. She crawled out from underneath her shelter, straightened, brushed sand from her buttocks and legs, and proceeded to make her way toward the port. She kept an eye on the ship as she walked through the soft sand, expertly sidestepping buried rocks, wood, and the occasional dead thing washed up from the depths.
'What do you think they're doing, Miss Lally?' she whispered to the doll. She held Miss Lally close, then placed the doll's mouth to her ear to hear the rag doll's 'reply.'
'Hmm, I don't know. But I bet we'll find out!'
She giggled a little to herself, then quieted as she drew closer to the pier and people. This late at night, no one noticed a small, silent shadow slip beneath the wooden pier.
Allika plopped down, sat Miss Lally in her lap, and waited with a patience that was almost unnatural in a child her age. But she had had to learn it, as she had had to learn many things over the last two and a half years, in order to survive.
After a time, another, softer sound was heard over the lull of the ocean. It was a rhythmic splashing noise, and Allika now saw that the big ship had dispatched a dinghy. It came closer, and the little girl could see that there were two men and some kind of crate in the smaller boat. At the same moment, she heard feet walking just above her. Sand, stirred up by the booted feet of the people above, sifted down to land in her short black hair. Silently, she tried to brush it out with one hand, listening intently.
'It's about damn time.' The harsh, booming voice, loud even when its owner was trying to be quiet, was familiar to Allika. It was Wolf.
'Quiet,' hissed another voice. That was Raven. Clearly, they were here to meet the little boat. Who was in it? What were they there for? Her curiosity now well and truly aroused, Allika got to her feet. Dragging Miss Lally behind her, she moved cautiously to the edge of the pier. If she moved just so, she could see up, catch a glimpse of her two fellow thieves.
The splashing was closer now. Allika strained to see who was in the boat, but the man saved her the effort.
'It's as I promised,' came Hound's voice. Allika narrowed her eyes. What was Hound doing in a ship from Mhar? 'A sign of good faith. Here-help me get it up onto the pier. And by all the gods, be careful. We don't want to drop it!'
There was much grunting and splashing as a box was heaved up from the boat onto the dock. Allika peered
