Wizards. You couldn’t rise in, or even stomach, the crimson order if you weren’t. But do you think every warrior, sailor, and dockhand we killed was a fiend incarnate? Or were they just ordinary folk doing their jobs and trying to get by? Checkmate’s edge, it’s not their fault they were born Thayan. Some may even have been slaves.”
“They certainly were not fiends. Demons are magnificent entities. Viewed clearly, they afford us a glimpse of the divine.”
Her observation failed to divert Anton from his own chain of thought: “But really, I don’t mind Thayan blood on my knife. It’s the deaths of our shipmates that weigh on me because we knew one another.” He sighed. “When I first took up this line of work, one of my mentors warned me the hard part was befriending the enemy. Not the doing of it, but the consequences. Because when you betray them, you bear the guilt.”
“Your true loyalty is to Umberlee, and in any case, you have not betrayed the reavers.”
“We lied to them.”
The remark reminded her of her own misgivings, but she pushed them aside. “For a sacred purpose! And if that is not enough, the ruse gave them the courage to win glory and wealth.”
“But Harl won’t get a chance to spend his share. He died protecting you.”
“For that reason, Umberlee has taken his spirit into her keeping, as she will one day welcome us if we do not fail her.” She peered at him, saw her words had given him no comfort, and felt a pang of frustration. “Why did you become a spy in the first place, if you are too squeamish for the work?”
Where wise counsel had failed, the exasperated question surprised a smile out of him. “‘Squeamish?’ I haven’t heard that before! In truth, I didn’t start out to be a spy. When I was a boy, I loved tales about paladins. I wanted to grow up to be one and begged my parents for permission to train with the Fellowship of the True Deity.”
“But they refused?”
“Oh, no. They were pious folk and approved of my aspirations. But it turned out that, while I took to swordplay and the rest of the combat training, I had no real patience for the constant prayer, fasting, meditation, and general asceticism an apprentice paladin had to endure, and discipline and self-denial only became more difficult when I started noticing girls. Perhaps because I chafed at them, I couldn’t establish the special bond with Torm his knights must have, nor learn to work even the simplest bit of divine magic. By trying, I discovered a small knack for the arcane, but that was beside the point.
“When it became clear I was hopeless, my masters discharged me, and I enlisted in the Turmian army. If I couldn’t be a mystical hero, I’d at least be a chivalrous one. I imagined myself dubbed a knight on the battlefield, fighting single combats with champions from enemy armies, devising brilliant strategies to turn certain defeat into total victory… suffice it to say, if it was a piece of rubbish from a heroic saga, it was rattling around in my head.”
“I take it that the army, too, was not as you envisioned it?”
Anton chuckled. “Sad but true. My superiors showed a strange reluctance to place a raw recruit in command of his own company, or otherwise reward my manifest talents as they deserved. I grew bored with regimentation and routine and disliked taking orders from fellows I deemed less clever than myself, and certainly less worthy than the paladins back in the cloister. In short order, I turned into a shirker and a troublemaker. Once my impudence even earned me a flogging.
“But occasionally I earned my keep. I always volunteered for scouting, carrying dispatches cross-country, any task I could undertake alone, guided solely by my own wits. Then I did well. In time my checkered career caught the notice of one of Turmish’s spymasters, who convinced me I was better suited for his trade than a life in the ranks.”
He shrugged. “And that’s the tale. I’ve been playing this game ever since. Lies and low blows may look shabby compared to paladin’s miracles and valor, but they, too, serve a purpose. At least when some clerk doesn’t just take my report and stuff it in a cubbyhole unread.”
“You yearned to serve a deity,” said Tu’ala’keth. “Yet now that the greatest of all has claimed you, you find no joy in it. What makes you so perverse?”
He hesitated. “I promised to help youand Umberleeand I will. But your deity stands for cruelty, greed, and destruction. Torm is virtue, honor, and loyalty. It’s scarcely the same thing.”
“You must open your eyes,” said Tu’ala’keth. “You see sharks devouring prey, tempests destroying ships and drowning mariners, victors slaying the vanquishedUmberlee’s reflections in the mundane worldand you cringe. As well you might, for these events are terrible. But so, too, are they sacred and beautiful. They are life expressing and refining itself. Without the urge to feed and to have and to master, what creature would discover its strengths, or do anything whatsoever?”
Anton shook his head. “You may be right, but I can’t feel what you feel. If it’s any consolation, I don’t spend much time contemplating the glories of Torm anymore, either. Of course I still believe in him, and all the gods. I’m not insane. But it’s hard to imagine them stooping to take an interest in the small, grubby lives of people like Harl and me. I suspect that by and large, we mortals are on our own.”
“No,” she said. “The gods may sometimes hate us, chastise, slay, and damn us, but they are never remote or indifferent. I believe that if you are true to our purpose, Umberlee will reveal herself to you, and you will know better.”
“Well, maybe so.” He glanced up at the moon and the trailing haze of glittering motes people called her tears. “Hmm. It’s past time for Williven to relieve me. Let’s go wake the lazy bastard.”
CHAPTER 5
iomeday, when Shandri Clayhill had taken enough prizes, when other captains sailed aboard vessels she’d provided in exchange for a cut of the plunder, when she was as a grandee by the standards of Dragon Isle, she’d have her own coquina mansion, swarming with flunkies, slaves, and sycophants. For now, though, when she had business to conduct ashore, it was necessary either to hire a room in a tavern or borrow space in Vurgrom’s mansion.
The latter was plainly more suitable for divvying up the spoils from the red caravel and the Thayan enclave, even if she disliked having her blustering chieftain sitting to one side, cup in hand, overseeing the proceedings. It would be too easy for him to countermand one of her decisions or offer “advice” that would effectively preclude her making one in the first place.
But really, how likely was that, in the wake of her triumph? So let the fat fool watch and reflect on the fact that, for all his boasting, it had been a long while since he’d taken such a prize. Maybe then he’d stop patronizing her and treat as he did the otherthe malecaptains who’d pledged him their fealty.
She resolved to stop chafing at his presence and focus on the task at hand. To whit, supervising her crew, who for the most part looked happy enough as they pawed through the bags and coffers heaped in the middle of the floor, raking out gleaming gold coins and other treasure. Some playfully donned oddments of sparkling jewelry. For an instant, she scowled, wondering if they were doing so in mockery of the way she customarily adorned herself, but then decided they probably meant no harm.
An ore unstoppered a pewter vial, took a sip, then jumped so high he slammed his head against a rafter. His friends laughed as he dropped back down to the floor. Sealmid fingered the edge of a broadsword. The enchanted blades the Thayans manufactured in quantity were inferior compared to truly splendid arms such as Kassur’s spear or Anton’s cutlass, but wickedly sharp nonetheless. The minimal contact sufficed to slice the first mate’s skin, and grinning, he raised his hand to display the welling blood.
Of course, it was fairly easy to divide specie or even minor potions and talismans seized by the dozen. If anyone chose to quarrel, it would be over the more potent magic the Red Wizards and their chief lieutenants had reserved for their own use. But after stuffing their pouches and sea bags with silver, gold, and gems, the ordinary gentlemen of fortune had no claim on the more precious enchanted articles, and surely the voyage had yielded enough of the latter to satisfy even a complement of officers as acquisitive as those who served aboard Shark’s Bliss.
As captain, Shandri got first pick. She advanced to the table, took up a greatsword, and pulled it from its scabbard. She didn’t actually need to since she and her lieutenants had already examined all of the items, but she
