Serrah and Caldason slipped arms around each other’s waists. With Pallidea walking beside his floating dish, Darrok led them towards the mock fortress’s grand entrance. He signalled as he moved, a silent order for the grateful workers to down tools and seek shelter. The swirling snow had the look of countless locusts descending. Fires were doused, horses draped with blankets. A young girl collecting discarded nails in a bucket laid down her burden and ran for cover.
‘We shouldn’t leave things too long as far as Rukanis is concerned,’ Darrok said. ‘What he suffered in the galleys wouldn’t compare to what Vance can put him through. I feel sorry for your friend if he really is in that devil’s hands.’
5
‘Go on, have a grape.’
‘Thank you, no,’ Kinsel Rukanis repeated stiffly, keeping his eyes downcast. He’d found it safer that way.
Kingdom Vance replaced the crystal fruit bowl on a polished oak table. He plucked a grape for himself, popped it into his mouth and assumed an exaggerated expression of pleasure. ‘Hmmm. You don’t know what you’re missing.’
‘What I’m missing,’ Kinsel said, daring to lift his gaze, ‘is my freedom.’
The pirate feigned concern. ‘Is my generosity lacking in some way? Is the quality of the wine not to your liking? Are the silk sheets on your bed-’
‘I hate to spoil the delight you take in mocking me, Vance, but please don’t abuse my intelligence.’
‘You think it intelligent to insult my generosity? When someone talks to me like that it’s usually a prelude to their death.’
‘Then have done with it. Even dying’s preferable to your brand of hospitality.’
‘You can have your freedom whenever you want. Or at least a chance to win it. You’ve only to meet me in combat. We can do it now, up on deck.’
‘I’ve told you before that I won’t do that.’
‘Should you win, I give you my word that my crew would release you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Or if it’s a question of your skills being less than mine, I’m sure we could find a way of evening the odds. I could fight with one hand tied, perhaps.’
‘I’ll not lift a sword against you or any other man.’
Vance laughed. ‘You fascinate me, Rukanis. You’re not a coward, yet you don’t believe in violence. Whereas I’ve always found it an invaluable tool in my line, not to mention a continuous source of entertainment.’
It was no idle boast. Kinsel had seen Vance’s fickle brutality toward his enemies and crew alike.
Both men were big, in their different ways. Vance was taller than average and large-framed. A mass of black curly hair framed his craggy, blemished face, and he was full-bearded. He favoured showy clothing; blue ankle- length frockcoat with gold trimming, breeches stuffed into thigh-high leather boots. And he swathed himself in jewellery: bracelets and ear studs, chains and pendants, rings on every finger.
Where Vance was flamboyant, Rukanis was modest by nature; in his life before slavery he could hardly have been called ostentatious. He was a little below the norm in height, and thickset, with a slightly barrelled chest that denoted the extra lung capacity of a singer; though the tattered convict’s uniform he currently wore hung looser now. His hair and beard were dark and had started out trimmed short, but now both were growing unruly.
Vance crunched into a red apple. ‘If you’re not willing to fight for your freedom,’ he said, chewing, ‘I’m not inclined to grant it.’ He discarded the apple after a further bite, tossing it casually over his shoulder. It joined a clutter of half eaten fruit littering the floor of his grandly appointed cabin. ‘Besides, you’re more use to me alive.’
‘Why?’
‘The gift of your voice, for one thing. Despite what you may think, I’m no savage.’ He belched and wiped the juice from his beard with the back of his sleeve.
‘What’s the other thing?’
‘You were sentenced for Resistance activities. Who better to call for those on the island to give up?’
‘I’d be appealing to strangers. Why should they listen to me?’
‘You underestimate your influence. The Diamond Isle’s been taken over by rebels. Chances are you know some of them.’
‘That’s quite an assumption. And even if I did, why should they give up because of me? Their vision’s bigger than one man.’
‘Vision,’ the pirate mouthed contemptuously. ‘They have as much vision as a eunuch looking for a good time in a whorehouse.’ He fixed Rukanis with a steely gaze. ‘Do you know Zahgadiah Darrok?’
‘I’ve heard the name,’ Kinsel replied cagily.
‘Darrok’s behind this defiance. He’s formed a union with these damned revolutionaries to keep me from what’s rightfully mine.’
‘You mean the island? I thought he owned it.’
Vance flashed sudden anger. He brought his fist down hard on the table, jangling the dishes. ‘Own be damned! He as good as stole it from me!’
Kinsel thought that unlikely, but judged it best to stay silent.
‘Darrok and I share a history,’ Vance continued, calming somewhat. ‘We worked in harness to forge a dominion in these waters, and further afield.’ He adopted a theatrically hurt look. ‘I thought we were friends. Then he stabbed me in the back. It was a grievous betrayal.’
‘I don’t see what it has to do with me.’
‘Then you lack imagination, singer. That island rightly belongs to me, and to the alliance I’ve built with my fellow merchant adventurers. We need it as a base, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get it. If that means using you any way I see fit, I will.’
‘They won’t trade, if that’s what you’re thinking. And I wouldn’t want them to.’
‘How noble of you,’ Vance sneered.
‘Look at it from their point of view. My well-being or all their futures. It’s no contest.’
‘We’ll see.’
‘This whole thing is insane, Vance. You’re wasting lives in pursuit of…what? A rock in the middle of the ocean. There are other islands. Why not settle for one of them?’
‘Lives are just another overhead in my business. The men who threw in their lot with the alliance did it willingly, and they knew the risks. Lives are nothing. It’s my honour that counts.’
‘So your honour demands such carnage? Surely it’s better to come to some accommodation with the rebels. They might even-’
‘Enough! Your…reasonableness vexes me.’
Kinsel braced himself for a blow. Or worse. It didn’t come. Instead Vance leaned back in his chair and thumped his feet on the table. He supported his head with laced fingers at the back of his neck.
‘Sing for me,’ he said. ‘The way you did the other day, after the raid. Soothe me.’
‘And if I refuse?’
‘You’re so concerned about lives. The fate of the next…oh, let’s say ten prisoners who fall into my hands will hang on what you decide now. And so will the prisoners.’ He laughed at his little joke.
‘Very well,’ Rukanis replied quietly. He stood, doing his best to prepare himself for what would be an ordeal.
‘Make it something restful,’ Vance ordered. ‘All this talk sets my nerves jangling.’
Given that his captor displayed the volatile emotions of a child, Kinsel decided on a lullaby.
He began to sing. The air he chose wasn’t particularly doleful, but his interpretation lent it a certain melancholy, and inevitably it brought Tanalvah to mind, and the children. The thought of them was all that kept him going. Now he was performing a lament for their loss, and found a kind of solace in it.
His thoughts turned to the world of normality he’d been forced to leave behind. Its familiarity, its certainties, seemed so distant and unreal to him now.
