incredibly boring, sailing up and down one sector day and night with only occasional breaks for debauchery at free ports such as Xiap.
These men were used to action and now that Syrapis was more or less pacified they were all yearning for their former lives-lives that had been spent plying their trade as thieving cutthroats.
In a way, he didn't blame them. Coralean was just as bored. He was also bitterly disappointed that he couldn't have sailed with Safar. That's where the action would be, no doubt about it. Moreover, he worried that without his skills as a negotiator-won through many years of running caravans across the wilds of Esmir-Safar's chances of success would be much less.
But, he thought, what other choice did his dear friend have? Safar needed wise old Coralean at home in Syrapis commanding the naval fleet that kept the Kyranians safe from the quarrelsome kings and queens of Hunan. Especially that devil Rhodes. That eater of camel dung. That intestinal worm of deceit.
There was no telling when and where Rhodes would strike next.
The caravan master snorted. Just let him try! Coralean, former bull of the land, was now the bull of the sea. If Rhodes launched an attack he wouldn't stand a chance against wily old Coralean!
That thought alone should have sweetened the caravan master's sleep. But he had other, more immediate, frustrations. He ached for the comfort of one his wives. Unfortunately, of the twenty-three women who constantly praised him as husband and lover, he'd only taken Eeda with him on this trip to the fleet.
Eeda was his newest bride. Barely eighteen, she was younger than many of Coralean's fifty children.
Lusty and adventurous in bed, Eeda was so sweet-tempered that only one or two of his wives appeared jealous. And he had no doubt he could cure that jealousy when he returned home, bearing gifts of jewels, rich cloth and his ardent attention.
At the moment, however, Coralean wished mightily he hadn't delayed his husbandly duties. Upon his arrival at the fleet, Eeda, poor thing, had taken ill. Apparently she was newly with child and suffered from that sickness of early pregnancy. The result was that she had taken to her bed-leaving Coralean alone in his.
Not that he begrudged her the rest.
Was not Coralean the most understanding of husbands, who doted on his wives? Did he not see to their every need, even anticipating such niceties as insisting that each one should always have a private room that they could retreat to in times such as these?
Coralean groaned and turned uncomfortably in his bunk. Wishing that sometimes, just sometimes, he wasn't such a mighty bull of a man. Whose powerful seed took root so swiftly and easily that he had to deny himself the most important of all his pleasures.
It was at that moment he heard the scratching at his door.
Ah ha! he thought. It must be Eeda. Her sickness had passed and now she longed for the strong, lusty arms of her bull, her Coralean.
Eagerly he rose from his bunk and went to the door, white sleeping shirt swirling around his massive frame like a tent battered by the desert winds. His hand went to the latch, but just before he threw back the lock he hesitated.
What if it wasn't Eeda? What if it was someone who meant Coralean harm? One of Rhodesa€™ spies, perhaps. It would be difficult, but not impossible, for an assassin to swim or row the two miles from Xiap and slip on board under the cover of night.
How would the assassin know which cabin was Coralean's? Again, a not impossible task. Perhaps the killer had a colleague aboard. These men were pirates, after all. To them, Coralean's life was worth no more than the coin he could keep heaping into their palms.
One of them might not have been completely satisfied with Coralean's bargain and high have decided to get as much as he could all at once by betraying the caravan master to Rhodesa€™ hired killers.
Coralean's lust turned to anger. A man of many enemies-none of which he believed he deserved-he had not lived so long by ignoring his instincts.
Again, he heard the scratching. But this time, instead of sweet Eeda, he imagined a sharp-faced killer with a dagger poised on the other side of the door.
Coralean snatched up his sword and at the same time ripped the door wide. A figure was crouched on the floor and the caravan master's blade was swinging down, ready to split the assassin in two, when he heard a small cry of terror.
'Lord and master!'
It was Eeda!
Coralean caught himself just in time and stayed the blow.
His heart hammering from what he'd almost done, Coralean leaned down and drew the girl to her feet.
'I'm so sorry, little one,' he said, embracing her. 'I didn't mean to frighten you. How can you ever forgive your Coralean? Who believed his dearest wife was an assassin at his door.'
To his surprise, Eeda hissed, 'Silence,' and pushed him back into the room. She whirled, softly shut and latched the door, then turned back.
'They're not at the door yet, my lord husband,' she whispered. 'But they'll be here soon!'
Coralean frowned. Lovely and young as Eeda might be, she was the daughter of a wild Syrapian chieftain. And was well-experienced in matters of the assassin's knife. Taking her word that danger was afoot, he hastily drew on his clothes.
'Who are these men, dear one?' he rumbled. 'And how do you know what they plan?'
'Earlier my illness chilled me, lord husband,' she said. 'And so I had closed the little round window in my cabin. But then I began to feel feverish and longed for fresh air. So I opened the window, hoping there might be a sea breeze. The window was so small, however, that the breeze was faint. So I put my face close to get all the air I could.'
The caravan master slipped his boots on. 'Go on, dear one,' he said. 'Tell Coralean what happened next.'
'As you know, lord husband,' she continued, 'my cabin is below the captain's. And his little round window was open too.'
'It's called a porthole, dear one,' Coralean corrected her. Eeda was very much a landswoman and had no experience with terms of the sea.
Eeda shrugged. 'Thank you for instructing me, lord husband,' she said.
But her tone was just sharp enough for Coralean to realize she wasn't thanking him at all. The caravan master warmed even more to her. What a sassy wench she was!
'Pray continue, little one,' Coralean urged.
Eeda nodded, catching the implication of an apology. Which was as far as Coralean would ever go with one of his wives.
'I heard the captain speaking to some other men,' she said. 'I don't know who the other men were, but I could tell right off they weren't crewmen. And from their barbaric accents I was positive they were from Hunan.'
'Rhodesa€™ men!' Coralean growled, buckling on his sword.
'None other, my lord husband,' Eeda said. 'My dear lord father was a prince unsurpassed by any in the number of men he hated. But of all his enemies, he despised King Rhodes the most.'
'Another reason for Coralean to admire your father,' the caravan master said. 'Now, tell me, dear one.
Did you hear what these men planned?'
'Yes, lord husband,' Eeda replied. 'They intend to kill your soldiers. Then capture you and hold you for ransom.'
'Let them try,' Coralean growled, hand going to the hilt of his sword.
'I believe I said they intend to,' Eeda pointed out. Poking at Coralean's manly pride a little harder than perhaps a good wife should. The caravan master frowned, but said nothing. 'You should also know that this isn't the only ship in danger. Several of the other captains have also thrown in with Rhodes. Or at least that's what I heard one of the men claim.'
Her pretty brow furrowed as she thought of something else. 'About that man, lord husband,' she said.
'The captain used his name. It was Tabusir. Lord Tabusir. And it was my impression that this conspiracy was his idea. And that he has much at stake with King Rhodes to see it's carried out properly.'
