waters. We were just out looking for some deeper holes where the fish might have fled.”
“They were carrying nets on their boat, but they didn’t have so much as a baitfish on board,” a sailor said.
The captain lifted a dark eyebrow. “Scouts? Has Bight heard rumors of us?” When no one answered, he moved swiftly to the front of the fisherman who spoke and clamped his hand over the man’s face. Muttering under his breath, he drew on the power of his dark mysticism and projected it into the mind of his victim. He used neither gentleness nor patience, and the force of his will ripping into the man’s mind brought forth a shriek of agony and terror from the prisoner.
The other captains looked on impassively, but the second captive stared with bulging eyes and a face filled with mingled anger and horror.
After a minute or two, the captain broke the link and withdrew his magic. The fisherman slumped to the floor, his eyes rolled up into his head, his body already slack in death.
“Bight is only guessing,” the captain told the others. He turned to the sailors. “Dispose of these two. Double the guard and bring any more spies you capture to me.”
The sailors gave a salute and dragged the prisoners away.
“Now, gentlemen,” the captain said in satisfaction. “Let us discuss the order of battle.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Linsha worked with Mica in silent companionship until midafternoon before her stomach and a messenger from the palace interrupted her concentration.
“Commander Durne orders you to return, squire,” the messenger told her. “I don’t know why I’m the one who always has to come and get you.”
“You’re just privileged, I guess,” she teased the young guard. Morgan had enough sense of humor to take it.
He grinned. “You’d better not dally. Word is, the commander isn’t happy with you. Squires do not leave the palace without permission.”
“I had permission!” she said indignantly.
“And,” he overrode her protest, “without checking with the Officer of the Watch.”
“Oops,” Linsha admitted.
“You’d better go,” said Mica dryly.
She closed her book, bowed to Mica as a squire should to acknowledge the governor’s healer, and followed the guard outside. They followed the path through the trees, passing the place where she had found the body of Captain Dewald. She slowed involuntarily to look at the trampled grass and the signs of many horses in the grove.
Morgan slowed down beside her. “They buried him in the crypt beneath the palace this morning. I wish I could find the scum that did this to him.”
Linsha silently agreed. A living Captain Dewald happily selling information to Lady Annian was a better prospect all around, in her opinion. Morgan moved on, and Linsha quickly followed. As she passed one scraggly pine, she heard the sleepy hoot of a disturbed owl. Glancing up, she saw Varia perched on a branch close to the trunk of the tree. The owl gazed steadily down at her and nodded her round head once.
Linsha scratched her cheek to acknowledge the signal and hurried on. So Varia confirmed it: Mica had been followed. Who else was interested in the dwarfs activities? She could only hope for now that he would take his own advice and be careful.
Morgan took her through the courtyard gate and into the palace and led her directly to Commander Durne. The commander was with Lord Bight, the harbormaster, and several other officers in the governor’s office on the third floor, all bent over a map spread across the large worktable. The young guard gave her a wink, pushed her in, and closed the door behind her. Nervously Linsha stiffened at attention.
“Indications are the volcanic dome is going to blow soon, Your Excellency,” one of the officers was saying. “The dome is growing larger again, and the smoke has increased. The camp has been bothered by tremors for two days. We recommend these areas in the camp, here and here,” and he pointed to spots on the map, “be evacuated to a safer distance until you are able to bring the flow under control.”
Lord Bight studied the map for a minute. He wore robes of black silk belted with gold that subtly altered the coloring of his face. His sun-bronzed skin seemed shadowed on the planes of his cheeks and jaw, and his deep-set eyes looked thunderous. “No. The dome should last for two or three more days. The Knights of Takhisis have been putting pressure on us in the north. After the debacle last night, they may want to take advantage of this distraction to the east, and I don’t want to give them the idea we are relaxing our vigilance.”
Another officer suggested, “Could you destroy the dome now, before it erupts?”
Lord Bight looked up, his eyes hooded. “I could level the dome now, but it would be premature. I want to wait until the pressure within is strong enough to blow itself out and push the lava in the direction I want it to go.”
Even though the captains did not completely understand what he meant, they nodded and looked as if they agreed completely.
“Commander Durne, until I lance that boil on the mountain, you can pull the men back from the wall closest to the dome. Just be sure you increase the guard in the observation towers.”
From her quiet post by the door, Linsha observed the commander, who stood beside the lord governor, his red uniform a sharp contrast to Lord Bight’s black robes. To her disgust, her heart beat faster as she watched him, and her skin grew warm.
“My lord,” Durne replied, “the City Guard is already stretched thin in the harbor district due to losses from the plague. What if we pull all patrols back to the city wall? That would give us the extra guards we need for the eastern perimeter.”
Something about that suggestion niggled in the back of Linsha’s mind. Commander Durne had pulled the City Guard out earlier, only to have Lord Bight reinstate them. Why was he so determined to have the guards out of the harbor district?
The harbormaster was aghast. “And leave the outer city open to looters, arsonists, and pirates?”
“Pirates?” Durne repeated derisively. “What pirate in his right mind would approach a plague city?”
“A nonhuman one,” the harbormaster pointed out, and then he blurted, “Or maybe the ones in those black ships lurking outside the harbor.”
A shock-laden silence suddenly fell on the room. Lord Bight closed his eyes and seemed to be counting to ten.
“What ships?” an officer asked.
The harbormaster belatedly remembered he wasn’t supposed to be discussing this news with anyone but Lord Bight. He tried to look unconcerned and failed miserably. “We had a report of a black ship out in the bay, so I sent some scouts to take a look. Routine.”
“You said ships,” another captain pointed out.
Linsha looked curiously at Commander Durne and thought it rather strange that he wasn’t saying anything. He stood bent over the table, his palms flat on the table top, his eyes staring into nothing.
“Look,” the harbormaster said quickly. “I spoke out of turn. I don’t know if the ships are there. I haven’t heard back from my scouts. I just don’t believe the outer city should be left without its guard.”
Lord Bight opened his eyes and, after giving the harbormaster a scathing glance, agreed. He tapped the map with a stiff forefinger to get his men’s attention. “Leave the watch in the outer city, Commander. We’ll use Governor’s Guards to stand watch in the towers while the City Guards continue their patrols of the camp and outer fortifications.”
“Yes, my lord,” Durne finally responded, although Linsha noted the tension in his jaw and around his mouth. She wondered if he had a headache from all the wine he’d drunk the night before. “Lord Bight,” he continued, “even though the construction of the aqueduct has slowed somewhat, it is still advancing. Do you wish us to keep guards posted there as well?”
