Asima woke with a start. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all, let alone as deep as that, but the hours spent at Captain Faerus’ lodging had been warm and inviting and she had been ‘encouraged’ to drink considerably more wine than was good for her. It had taken every ounce of her self-control to hold her tongue and keep her secrets while playing the part Samir had asked of her.
The house had been prepared to celebrate the return of Samir. As soon as the Empress had appeared at the dock, Faerus had begun to crack the barrels of drink and sent one of his men out to gather their compatriots together. By the time Samir had arrived with Asima and a few chosen crewmates in tow, the alcohol was already flowing and more than a dozen men were laughing and singing.
The reaction to her presence was curious, with initial surprise giving way to suspicion. Then Samir had explained who she was, embellishing certain aspects of her history, such as her repeated captivity and her dislike of Imperial authorities. In Samir’s words, she appeared to be a troubled rebel repeatedly surviving the hardships brought down by one government or another. Asima was once again impressed at the subtle ways the young captain’s mind worked. When she thought about it, he had told no lies and left out few facts, while bending the truth to appear as he needed it.
To the other occupants of the room, she quickly became a figure of respect and would appear to have knowledge of the Pelasian navy and access to people in higher positions in both there and the Empire.
It had taken only moments for her to realise what he was doing. In the morning, the council would meet and Asima would be condemned to a watery grave as a danger to the security of Lassos. Samir may receive the same punishment or, at the very least, would be exiled from the island. However, by the time these decisions were announced, those who were already sympathetic with Samir and his politics would be aware that he had heroically removed the single greatest threat to the captains and their ships: the Wind of God. He would be a hero to them, which means the council would be condemning a hero to death.
Moreover, Asima was now known to have helped take down the ship by crippling her rudder. When combined with the impression that she was herself an outlaw with information that could be of great use to the folk of Lassos, the death sentence pronounced on her would likely create equal outrage.
Samir had used her to turn some of them against their own leaders. It was a masterly stroke, along the lines of things Asima had done herself.
The downside, of course, was that those who were outraged by all of this would still be vastly outnumbered by those who were loyal to the council and no great friend of Samir. He may have turned some pirates to his cause, but not enough to prevent their death once the announcements were made.
And that was obviously why mister Ursa, the bald and tattooed first officer, was gently shaking her awake now.
“Captain wants ya on the command deck, miss.”
Asima blinked wearily. This hardly seemed the same man who had glared and grumbled at her as they had first arrived yesterday afternoon. But then, Ursa had been present last night; had learned what the others had of her somewhat exaggerated past. By the middle of the evening he had begun to smile when he looked at her and, by the end, he’d been the worst of all culprits for force-feeding her the strong wine.
She had tried to tell Samir that all this alcohol was a bad idea, but he had insisted that it would be abnormal and unseemly to reject Faerus’ hospitality.
Rubbing her bleary eyes and trying to ignore the insistent thumping in her skull, Asima stood and stretched. With a grin, Ursa draped a blanket over her shoulders.
“Cold out there, miss. Fog’s in thick tonight.”
With a nod, Asima grasped the blanket and, pulling it tight around her, exited the cabin and walked the short distance to the ladder that led to the command deck.
She frowned as she eyed the deck.
There was a more activity that she thought there should be at night. The few visible crewmen moved silently, in much the same way as they had through the rocks. Ropes were being coiled and crates lifted aboard. The sight was made all the more eerie by the thickness of the fog that enveloped them all. She could barely see the bow of the ship, let alone the town. The jetty marched away on legs of oak into the blanket of white.
Turning, she climbed the ladder. Samir sat on a low wooden bench near the rudder.
“Ah, Asima.” His voice was soft, almost lost in the fog that settled creepily around the ship. “It would seem that the Gods of weather are feeling kind.”
She tried to keep the sneer from her face and was only partially successful.
“You need fog?”
Samir smiled.
“It wasn’t a necessity, but very useful, nonetheless. Makes things considerably easier”
Asima frowned, turned and cast her eyes across the rail. Sure enough, the jetty was slowly slipping away from them. Even in the moment she watched, she saw the end, jutting out welcomingly, disappearing into the all-consuming white.
“We’re underway? I never heard a thing!”
Samir smiled.
“Just ten oars. Enough to get us moving but not enough to make a loud noise, particularly in the fog. With any luck, we’ll be almost out of the harbour before we’re noticed.”
Asima shook her head.
“What are you doing, Samir?”
The young captain smiled.
“Saving your neck among other things. As I keep saying, plans are in motion. Well, I’ve now turned a corner and burned another bridge, to mix my metaphors.”
He noted the look of distrustful uncertainty on her face and his grin widened.
“The few members of my crew of whom I have never been entirely sure are back in Lassos, hopefully still drunk and unaware. The Empress now has a totally loyal crew. We will have a bounty placed on our head by the council as soon as they find out we’ve left, particularly when they realise that I’ve had to take one of the two compasses with me. But the leaders will lose a great deal of their support. I have friends in Lassos, Asima. The time of the council of twelve is coming to an end. Soon there will be only one ruler of Lassos.”
Asima nodded. Though he still had his secrets, some of his motives and plans were beginning to unfold and she could easily put herself in his position. Samir was more like her than she had ever imagined. Just as she planned and aspired to become an empress in her own right, Samir had his sights set on total rule of Lassos. Even now he was undermining the council and building a power base.
She smiled.
“You may just be the absolute opposite of your brother, Samir.”
For a moment, she pulled back as something dark and dangerous passed across the young captain’s face.
“I wouldn’t say that, Asima. Ghassan may be a little more law-abiding and strict than I, but we both have our ethics and codes of conduct. I recognise that there is some small similarity in the way our minds work, but I would advise against considering yourself my peer in any way. You are useful and our paths currently coincide, but make no mistake… I trust you less than any occupant of Lassos. They may by murderers, thieves and rapists, but they make no attempt to hide what they are. You can wrap yourself in as many layers of respectability as you wish, but I know what you are.”
He frowned.
“And you apparently bring out the worst in me, too. I brought you up here for two reasons. Firstly, you deserve to know what’s happening, in case we are caught and captured or sunk.”
She nodded, her own eyes now flashing darkly. There was a tension on deck that could not be settled right now.
“Secondly,” he went on, “I am now down by almost two dozen crewmen. I need lookouts. Take position over by the rear rail on the port side. As we leave harbour, any minute now, we’ll have to pass beneath the rocks and I need you to warn me if we get too close. I can angle the bow correctly, but the current here pulls ships into a drift and if you’re not careful the stern is turned into the cliff.”
Asima continued to glare at Samir through narrowed eyes for a moment longer and then turned and approached the rail, taking up position and peering into the white. The situation was as strange and unreal as any she could remember. The blanket of fleecy fog was so thick she could hardly see the water below the rail unless she concentrated extremely hard. The silence was oppressive, with the only sound the occasional creak of timber or splash of oar, and even that had to be listened for. Somewhere along the ship, a sailor coughed as quietly as possible; so quiet it should hardly be audible, but in this strange otherworld it seemed deafening.
And then the rocks were lunging at her through the fog and Asima had to summon all of her self-control not to cry out a warning. Turning sharply, she hissed through her teeth and pointed down toward the glistening black shard that marked the edge of the cliff and was drifting toward the hull at an alarming rate.
Samir’s head snapped toward her and reacted instinctively without seeing the rocks, turning the rudder so that the Empress changed course slightly but rapidly. The rocks that had seemed so threatening a moment ago drifted past alongside the rear rail and Asima heaved a deep but quiet sigh of relief.
The heavy silence was suddenly torn apart by the sound of a horn from astern. Asima’s heart leapt into her throat.
“Oars!” Samir bellowed, removing any doubt in Asima’s mind as to what the blast meant. The silence exploded into noisy activity as dozens more oars slid out of the hull and dipped into the water, seeming momentarily disorganised until they managed to match the stroke. Asima stood rigid, wondering whether to go below again, when Samir turned to her.
“Keep an eye on the rocks… we’ve got to get closer.”
“Closer?” Asima said, astonished. It looked as though the oars would scrape the cliff any moment as they were.
“We have to hug the cliffs, turning to port until we’re out of ‘sight’, so to speak, of the port. Then we strike out for the reefs, and we can get a few yards closer to them yet. Watch the oars and the cliff and when you see the spray from the oars touch the rocks we’re close enough.”
Asima blinked as Samir yanked on the rudder and sent them banking left and back toward the cliff they had just rounded.
“That’s crazy!”
Samir shrugged.
“That’s the way it is. Any further out in the open water and… wait for it…”
As if on cue, somewhere above them there was a dull thud, followed by several more in sharp succession. Out to starboard, away from the cliffs and hidden by the fog, came the sound of a number of very heavy objects plunging into the deep water. After the first couple of huge rocks hit, Asima found she was wincing with each splash. Somewhere at the top of that cliff must be a defensive artillery platform. Their view was totally obscured but, given a wide enough spread of shot, there was always the possibility of a lucky shot… unless they stayed so close to the rock that the artillerists couldn’t get a range.
She almost jumped as a flaming greeny-yellow ball of flaming matter arced over the ship from high above and plunged into the water with a splash and a hiss.
Suddenly, Asima realised that Samir was watching her intently. Turning her eyes back to the cliff, she realised that the water thrown up by the oars was already spraying across the slick black rock. In a panic, she turned and waved her arm in what she hoped was an appropriate gesture.
For a moment, as the ship continued to near the cliff and she was sure the oars must strike home and snap, she realised she was, right now, more nervous than at any point since those days of being young in M’Dahz, and possibly more so than even then. She was not by nature a nervous person and these days little frightened her, but this was something different. She was in an unfamiliar situation and with no power over events. Helpless and with no experience or knowledge of sailing, she was completely at the mercy of others and nothing she could do would allow her to take control of the situation. And Samir was using her and seemed to hold her in as little regard as she truly held him.
Blessed anger began to filter through her, smothering the fear, bringing control with it.
Samir would suffer for putting her through this.
Splash!
Well, once they were out away from the island and safe, he would, anyway. Tensely, she watched as the cliffs slid slowly past. Now there were more horns from behind; great activity in the harbour, which likely meant other ships weighing anchor to chase them down. The rocks of the reef would be moments away now and, once they were in there…”
She blinked as she realised that didn’t exactly mean safety. The captains in pursuit would have the other compass and could navigate the reefs too, so it would come down to Samir’s ability as a captain in the end.
Oh, he would suffer, but not yet, she thought as she saw Samir take out the disc and align the rudder with the disembodied finger within.
Just let her get away from here first.