The Pirates of Pacta Servanda, Page 2

  “Yes, Sir Mage.” The captain gestured out toward the water. “It is rare.”

  “Then you cannot say how long it might last?”

  “Sir Mage, it might last a moment longer or for days. A sailor learns that just when you think you know it the sea will surprise you. Have you heard that the sea is like a woman? There’s truth to that. One moment tranquil, the next moment furious, and all men can do is try to read the weather, ride the storm, and hope for the best.”

  Mari gave the captain a sharp look. “I would guess that women sailors disagree with that comparison?”

  “Uh, no, Lady. They tend to agree. A good sailor knows the character of the sea, no matter the character of the sailor.” The captain glanced at her, looking apologetic. “Not that I speak of you so, you understand.”

  “The storms of Lady Mari have, I think, impressed the elders of the Mechanics Guild, the city fathers of Ringhmon, and the Emperor himself,” Alain replied, his eyes on the fog again. As he watched it, only half-aware of the captain trying to keep his expression “blank as a Mage,” as the saying went, Alain saw a blot on the featureless mist. He stiffened as a black cloud drifted across his vision. His foresight, often undependable, this time was providing a warning. “There.” He pointed. “A galley lies there.”

  The captain stared into the mist where Alain had pointed. “Can you tell me anything else, Sir Mage?”

  “Only that you are correct. It is a threat to us.”

  The captain nodded. “I witnessed what you did to that Mechanics Guild ship at Altis, Sir Mage, and watched the smoke from the burning city for nigh on a day after we left. Can you do the same here?”

  “I will do my best,” Alain said.

  “Then despite the odds against us I feel much comforted. Do you know much of the Syndaris? I’ve crossed swords with them before. The fighters of Syndar are easily bought, but that does not mean real loyalty has been purchased.”

  “How hard will they fight?” Alain asked.

  “That depends upon the pay, or the reward, Sir Mage.” The captain smiled ruefully. “Unfortunately, the reward in your case must be very large. The Syndari galley we hear is risking movement in this fog, so those commanding it must be highly motivated.”

  “You should know,” Alain said to the captain, “that the Empire and the Great Guilds likely do not seek the capture of Lady Mari, but her death.”

  The captain nodded with obvious determination. “We will not allow that. Lest you doubt me, Sir Mage, death awaits me and more than one of my crew if the Empire gets its hands on us. Imperial bureaucrats have not been impressed by some of our means of making a living. They would no doubt grant us the promised reward to meet the letter of their law, but then would fine us the same amount for our crimes—alleged crimes, that is—and hang us. I admit that my crew and I are not the type to risk our deaths needlessly. Perhaps we’ve been more like the Syndaris than we like to admit. But…”

  He hesitated, then knelt before Mari, speaking almost bashfully, far from his usual boisterous and confident self. “I long ago stopped believing in anything but what I can hold in these two hands, Lady, and counted those who risk death for no profit as fools. But I have seen you and heard you, and if Lady Mari were to ask life itself of me I would give it. The sea changes in unexpected ways, and so it seems I still can as well.”

  Mari, looking extremely uncomfortable, beckoned the captain to stand. “I’m sorry. I know you mean well, but I really don’t like it when people kneel to me. Please don’t do that again. And I very much hope that neither you nor anyone else will have to die because of me. Too many people already have died.”

  The captain stood up, smiling. “There, you see? We’ve spent our lives knowing that no Mechanic and no Mage cared the slightest about whether we lived or died, not as long as we were doing what they ordered us to do. We didn’t matter, that’s all. But we do matter to you. Thank you, Lady. If we can get into Julesport without a fight, I promise it will be done. But if we must fight, we will. I will let my crew know.” He saluted with careful formality before departing.

  “Great. More people who want to die because of me,” Mari grumbled. “If we didn’t have to worry about saving those banned Mechanic texts, I’d dive overboard right now and try to swim to shore. But those texts are more important than I am. More important than everyone else on this ship.”

  “I thought you said—” Alain began.

  “I am not more important than anyone else,” Mari insisted. “That’s what I said. You heard what the hidden librarians we found on Altis told us. Those texts were designed to enable people to rebuild civilization if the worst happened. With them people can recreate the technology that the Mechanics Guild has suppressed for all of these years. I, or somebody else, can use those texts to defeat whatever the Guild throws at us. If we have enough time.”

  “The Storm approaches,” Alain said.

  “Well, I wish the Storm would send a breeze ahead of it to help this ship get its butt into Julesport! How much can you and the other Mages do, Alain? Didn’t you tell me that while the amount of power Mages can draw on is almost always weak over water, it also varies by location?”

  “That is so,” Alain said, not surprised that Mari had remembered that. She was always trying to understand Mage skills by using the rules of her Mechanic arts, which usually led to frustration. “There is little power here, as is usual on the sea. Even the elders of the Mage Guild do not claim to know why this is so.”

  “You managed some spells when we were on the Queen of the Sea,” Mari pointed out. “That was the Mechanics Guild ship that captured us near the Sharr Isles.”

  He felt unease at the memory. The large metal ship filled with Mechanic devices had felt strange in a very disquieting way. “That ship was moving fairly quickly, bringing more power available with each distance covered,” Alain explained. “Here we sit in the same spot.”

  “Oh. You were…sort of getting more current by moving along a wire,” Mari said. “Yeah. So we have to assume that this time the Mages cannot help?”

  That stung in some unaccountable way. “There is a chance,” Alain said, “if this ship begins to move even slowly, because I would only need to plant one ball of fire on a galley to eliminate it. But I would have to see that galley coming long enough to create the fire and to aim, and the effort would surely exhaust me.”

  She was staring at him. “I said that wrong, didn’t I? I said it wrong enough to make you show some upset that I could see. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that I was…disappointed. I’m just trying to figure out what weapons we have. And you’ve done miracles, Alain. I would long since be dead without you. We have four Mechanics and three Mages. What do you think we should do?”

  Alain looked about, considering the problem. “We do not know from which direction an enemy might come. I suggest that I take position near the ship’s wheel, where I can best view all angles. The Mechanics and the other two Mages can be placed in the middle of the ship, where you can direct the others easily.”

  “Half facing each way?” Mari asked.

  “Half?”

  Mari gave that sigh she used when he did not grasp something she had never imagined someone not knowing. “Two Mechanics and one Mage facing port, and two Mechanics and one Mage facing starboard. Alain, you have to learn some math.”

  “If you know it, why do I need it? I do not ask you to learn how to do Mage tasks.”

  “Because…” Mari sighed again. “Without realizing it, I keep wanting to remake you into a Mechanic, which would not only be dumb of me but also really conceited. Who you are is what has saved us many times. Um…I need to alert the other Mechanics. You tell the other Mages that we might have a fight on our hands soon. We’ll all meet here on deck.” Mari brushed back her hair again with her left hand, the still-new promise ring on one finger glinting in the misty light. She noticed it, then looked at Alain, who wore the ring’s companion on his own left hand. “I almost forgot to say I love you.”

  Despite the inhibitions created by years of extremely harsh instruction in avoiding even the appearance of emotion, Alain managed to force out the right answer. “I…love…you.”

  She smiled despite the worry visible on her. “A lot of other men find it too easy to say those words. Because of your Mage training, you find it very hard, so I know you mean them. I’m going to be counting on you again in this fight, which I know is totally unfair, but I also know I can always count on you. Let’s survive another one, my Mage.” She turned to go, then paused and looked back at him, framed by the coils of mist drifting across the deck. “Don’t die. You understand? Don’t die.”

  Alain tried to smile reassuringly, knowing that he was probably not doing a very good job of it. “I understand, my Mechanic. You are also not to die.”

  She forced a grin in reply, then hurried away.

  Despite the urgency of his task, Alain stood for a moment watching as Mari walked into the fog, her dark Mechanics jacket standing out. The hatred between the Mage Guild and the Mechanics Guild was long and enduring, constantly reinforced by every contact between Mages and Mechanics—who were mutually certain that the others were conceited frauds. He had been taught to view the dark Mechanics jacket as a sign of the enemy. But despite all that had happened between her and her former Guild, Mari still took great pride in being one of those trained in the Mechanic arts and found comfort in still wearing the familiar garment. And Alain, who had only recently turned eighteen years old, knew that he would never have lived past seventeen if not for the times the young woman wearing that dark jacket had placed it and herself between him and danger.

  Even if he had not grown to love her, he would still look fondly upon the dark jacket he had once been trained to hate. Perhaps someday the common folk and other Mages would also look upon the dark jackets of Mechanics without anger and revulsion. Just as Mari had taught some of her fellow Mechanics to see that not all Mages were monsters.

  Mari had saved him, and she could save this world.

  If he could help get them both past the Syndari galley.

  Alain hurried off as well, seeking both Mage Dav and Mage Asha. As he walked softly along the deck, he could hear the sounds of galley oars coming through the fog.

  Chapter Two

  The Gray Lady was a small ship, and Mages tended to keep to themselves, so Alain had no trouble finding Mage Dav and Mage Asha, the short, dumpy male Mage forming an odd contrast with the tall, beautiful female Mage. But his fellow Mages were one and the same in the blankness of their expressions, showing neither surprise nor interest when Alain summoned them to come with him. Within a few moments all three Mages were on deck, looking even more mysterious than usual with the fog swirling around their robes.

  Mari soon joined them with her fellow Mechanics, Alli, Bev, and Dav. All four wore the jackets which marked their status as Mechanics, as well as the jeans and boots which, while not identical, seemed as much a part of the Mechanic uniform as the jackets. Only their shirts varied: Mari’s a pale white, Alli’s bright blue, Bev’s a somber gray, and Dav’s a darker blue that almost faded into his jacket.

  Everyone looked at Mari, waiting to hear what she had to say. “Everybody keep their voices down,” she cautioned. “Sound really carries in this fog and there’s at least one galley looking for us.”

  “What’s the plan?” Mechanic Alli asked her.

  Alain was not surprised by that. Despite Mari’s insistence that she and Alain were equals in making decisions, everyone else tended to view her as being in charge. That bothered her every time she realized it was happening, but it did not concern Alain because he knew that Mari really did try to give him an equal voice in their decisions.

  Mari gestured toward parts of the ship barely visible through the fog. “Mage Alain on the quarterdeck. He’ll use fire if he can get enough power. The rest of us along the deck here, facing each side. Alain, I’d like you, Mage Dav, and Mage Asha to work out which spells each of you can use if it comes to that.”

  Mage Dav nodded slightly once. Mage Asha merely looked back at Mari. There had been a time when that lack of acknowledgement would have angered Mari, but she had since learned through Alain that the mere fact that the other Mages had accepted her existence was a major concession.

  Mari pointed at Mechanic Bev. “Bev, please break out the rifles.”

  Mechanic Bev nodded as well, but with a quick jerkiness that bespoke tension. “All of them?”

  “Yes. All six. That one that Alli has been working on still jams way too easily, and if we’re facing a galley of fighters coming at us we’ll want to keep shooting and put off reloading as long as we can.”

  “What exactly are we facing?” Mechanic Dav asked.

  “At least one galley out of Syndar. Listen and you’ll hear it out there. Alain says it’s looking for us.”

  “Can I ask something?” Bev said. “Seriously. Why not just let your Mage blow up the galley like he did the Mechanic ship in the harbor at Altis?”

  “My Mage…” Mari paused and gave Alain a quick, proud smile. He knew that she liked that phrase. “My Mage might not be able to handle it because there’s not much power here for him to draw on.”

  Bev nodded again. Mage powers—abilities that appeared to violate every rule Mechanics had been taught about how the universe worked—were a mystery to Mechanics, but Alain had learned that Mechanics could understand the idea of limited power restricting what could be done. “We don’t have a big supply of ammo,” she pointed out. “I’m just saying.”

  “I understand,” Mari said. “I don’t want to get into a fight if we can help it. I hope we can scare off the galley instead, or at least avoid letting it come to grips. If all of us are shooting we’ll have four rifles in use at once, and that is a lot more firepower than commons are used to facing. The Syndari Islands are also more likely to forgive us for frightening off one of their ships than they are if we sink it, and we’ve already got enough enemies at the moment.”

  “Why not tell them that you’re the daughter?” Alli asked.

  Alain saw Mari grimace and look away before answering. “I think they already know, but are chasing big enough rewards that they’ll find reasons to believe I’m not really that person.”

  “They could believe it,” Bev pointed out, “and still want you under their control. As long as the commons and Mages believe that you’re her, you’re like the queen on a chessboard.”

  Mari gave a scoffing laugh. “Maybe. That’s the closest to being a queen that I’ll ever be, though. But it doesn’t matter exactly why the Syndaris are chasing us. What matters is that they are.”

  “Fair enough,” Alli said. “I bet it still feels weird to be looked at that way, huh? Hey, Bev, let me look at your rifle once we’ve got them. I want to make sure the ejection mechanism isn’t sticking.”

  “Yes, honored Mechanic,” Bev said, making a joke of the phrasing usually required of commons, and hurried off to get the Mechanic weapons.

  Alli shook her head at Mari. “Some of these standard-model repeating rifles are over a century old. The parts are so worn the things rattle when you move them.”

  “Every one of them hand crafted,” Mechanic Dav said, looking out into the fog. “Just like the bullets. I had a friend whose aunt suggested some faster methods of fabricating ammo. The aunt disappeared soon afterwards.”

  “The Mechanics Guild doesn’t want a lot of rifles and bullets in circulation,” Mari said. “They want just enough to be able to parcel them out one or two at a time where needed to help any commons doing what the Guild tells them to do, or to hurt any commons disobeying the Guild. We’re going to change that.”

  “Is that necessarily a good thing? I mean—more rifles, more ammunition, won’t that make wars even worse?”

  Mari paused, looking troubled.

  Alain answered. “Mechanic Dav, I have already seen many die at point or edge of sword or from a crossbow bolt. I cannot see that it is different from dying as a result of one of the Mechanic weapons. And having seen what was done at Marandur, I think that it is why weapons are used or not used that matters, not which weapons are used.”

  Mechanic Dav gazed at Alain and nodded slowly. “I guess that’s true. War is going to be terrible, no matter what. And like Mari says, wars up to now have been all about keeping the Great Guilds in power. At least we’re fighting for a better reason than that.”

  Mage Asha came up to stand near Mechanic Dav, her expression still void of any feeling. “If we are to fight, I will stand here,” she said in the emotionless voice of a Mage.

  Mechanic Dav looked over at her and smiled. “I’d like that,” he said.

  Asha inclined her head very slightly toward him, then looked back out to sea.

  Mari leaned close to Alain and whispered. “What is that about? What is Asha doing?”

  “Mage Asha is showing great interest in Mechanic Dav. I am surprised how blatant she is being.”

  “She’s—” Mari stared at him. “Is Asha flirting with Dav? Is that how Mages flirt?”

  “I do not know what flirt means,” Alain said. “But her interest in him is obvious.”

  “Obvious? Seriously?”

  “Does this bother you?”

  “No. Not really. Not that.” She gazed north as if able to see through the fog and the distance. “I’m…nervous, Alain. Not just scared because we’re facing another fight, but nervous about how everyone is asking me what to do. Until Altis it was just you and me, and that was bad enough, wondering if some snap decision of mine would end up trapping us. And at Altis I was just responding to events, trying to keep ahead of things, without time to worry. But now we’ve got three other Mechanics and two other Mages, and they’re not only depending on me to make decisions, they’re also in major danger just because they’re with me. So are the crew of this ship. And how many others, Alain? How many commons are going to die because they believe I am that person they’ve been waiting for?”

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