"Something to do with mapping the ocean and navigation, I believe. You know what the problem is with us folk from the Va-cherished Hemisphere, Juster? If someone doesn't speak our language well, we think they are ill-educated and stupid. A grave mistake. Believe me, I've had to rethink my attitude towards Ardhi several times. And I don't believe we know one quarter of what there is to know, even yet."

"Well, that's obvious, isn't it! Neither of us expected him to go for a paddle in the middle of the night."

"Captain, sir?"

Juster turned to look at the speaker. "Yes, Costel?"

"There's a boat approaching. Came from the harbourmaster's jetty."

Juster nodded and waved him away. "Now what? How much d'you bet this has something to do with a missing lascar? Come with me to see what all this is about, Saker. Your Pashali is a long way better than mine."

"You should have come to my lessons on the way here."

"Tush! A classroom is no way to learn anything. Most of what I've learned has been in a tavern. Or in bed. Lovers make the best teachers."

"I fear my dedication to learning has its limits."

"Never mind, a Pashali gentleman I met in Karradar gave me the direction of a certain lady living in Javenka-the-Midst, ravishing by all reports. We could make her acquaintance-" He halted then as Sorrel and Surgeon Barklee emerged from below decks.

"She's a darling," Barklee was saying. He was smiling down at Piper in his arms as she pulled at his beard and chortled. "Reminds me of my own cherubs. Two little darlings, I have, one about this age when I left." He carried her over to the taffrail to watch a passing bumboat laden with fruit and vegetables.

"What's happening?" Sorrel asked Saker.

"Boat coming in from the harbourmaster," he said, "and Ardhi has vanished."

"No, he hasn't," she said, after glancing over the bulwarks. "He's sitting in the harbourmaster's boat."

He was too. Saker frowned. Va-damn the fellow. What trouble was he in this time?

A few minutes later one of the harbourmaster's subordinates was speaking to Lord Juster on deck, having declined an invitation to go below. "Two messages from Notable Xanathra," he said, referring to the harbourmaster who had not been on the boat. "Your berth is ready on Sorzrava Island, dock six, bollard two. Money to be paid in advance, amount as already agreed, when you tie up."

Juster looked at Saker, who quickly translated.

"Thank you. And the second message?" Juster inquired.

They all expected it would have something to do with Ardhi, who had come on board behind the Pashali official and was now standing a pace or two away.

"When you leave," the official continued, "everyone is to be on board. No one is granted permission to disembark in Javenka."

Juster looked puzzled. "I'm not sure I understand you," he said, with Saker translating. "We wish to replenish our supplies, and my men would value shore leave-"

"That is not a problem. You misunderstand. It is just that all who arrived on board yesterday, must depart on board. Everyone, including the woman and the child. Otherwise your ship will be impounded and you will not be permitted to sail."

Juster looked at Saker, perplexed. "I'm still not sure that I understand. Saker?"

"He's forbidding Sorrel and Piper to take the overland route," he replied. "If they don't sail with us when we go, none of us get to leave."

For a moment Juster stood, unmoving. Then he turned back to the harbourmaster's representative, his back rigid, his voice as flat as a plank of wood. "These instructions: they come from the harbourmaster?"

"Yes. But you must understand, the harbourmaster is subordinate to the Council of Merchants and Scholars, headed by Mir Alda Attaranzi." The man bowed. "My message is delivered."

Having heard Saker's translation, Lord Juster, never a fool, inclined his head. "Convey our greetings and thanks to the harbourmaster." He watched the man descend once more into the boat, saluted him, then took two steps across the deck to Ardhi, seizing him by the arm and almost lifting him off his feet. "Who is Mir Alda Attaranzi?"

"Mir is title. Like 'Lord'. Attaranzi is big merchant family. Alda is..." He searched for the correct word. "Head of that family."

"Patriarch," Saker suggested.

"Yes. Patriarch. Attaranzi family rule Javenka, hundred years already maybe, so family patriarch is like Regal."

"And," Juster continued through gritted teeth, "would you like to explain how this Mir Alda got to hear about the existence of Sorrel and Piper?"

For a moment Saker thought Ardhi would not reply. Finally, though, he said quietly, "It was necessary. Piper and Mistress Sorrel must go to Chenderawasi."

At Saker's side, Sorrel gave a sharp intake of breath and clutched at his arm, her fingers digging deep.

Juster glowered at Ardhi. "And you have very cleverly made it so that it is impossible for them to do otherwise. Get out of my sight, before I toss you overboardattached to an anchor!"

Ardhi walked to the companionway and disappeared below decks. All Saker could think of was how dignified his exit was, as if he was neither ashamed nor proud of what he had done. He had the resignation of a man who knew there had been no alternative. Not for him.

Juster looked from him to Sorrel. "You could get off the ship glamoured, Mistress Sorrel. Are you still able to hide Piper under your glamour too?"

"Not really. She's too big. Besides, I can't stop her from crying or babbling at a crucial moment." She bit her lip. "But that's irrelevant surely? The official as good as told you they'll search the ship to make sure I'm on board when you leave."

Neither of them had a reply to that.

"I'm going to throw Ardhi overboard one dark night between here and the Spicerie," Lord Juster muttered. "I command this ship, and he just betrayed his captain. A sailor on board who cannot be trusted is a danger to everyone."

"You don't mean that," Saker said. "You're no murderer."

Juster gave a bark of savage laughter. "You jest! Youthe man who scolds me for being a privateer? I've killed more innocent sailors than I care to think about, just as any soldier does for his country. Ardhi will just be one more on the list."

"His Va-forsaken dagger is likely to do something to prevent it, and you might be the one yelling for help in the middle of the ocean."

They all thought about that, then Sorrel raised her chin, looked from Juster to him and back again, and said, "We have no choice. I will go to Chenderawasi with you."

Troubled, he wondered if she was relieved or despairing.

Releasing her clutch at his arm, she added, "This sorcery of Ardhi'sit's powerful. No matter what we do, Piper and me, we always seem to be pushed towards Chenderawasi. I'm becoming more scared of resisting it than I am of acquiescing."

A visceral fear punched at his heart. What don't we know? "This business with the harbourmaster? It doesn't sound like sorcery to me," he said. "It sounds as if Ardhi went to some of his friends and put pressure on someone higher up the ladder. Good old-fashioned influence. Using one's friends in high places."

"Perhaps," she agreed, but she looked no happier.

"If you think this Chenderawasi sorcery is so powerful," Juster said slowly, "that's all the more reason you should try to escape from it."

"Are you trying to be fair and give me every chance to change my mind?" she asked.

"Never could resist a beautiful lady."

"Neither a lady, nor beautiful," she said with her usual prosaic composure. "I like Ardhi. He obviously doesn't think he's taking me and Piper into danger. In fact, I would feel more in danger if I try to fight this sakti of his."

Juster took a deep breath. "I think you ought to talk to Ardhi, Mistress Sorrel. I think you have more of a chance at charming information out of him than we do. He likes you, and he adores Piper. The more we know, the better armed we are. And is that her I hear crying?"

"It is indeed. I left her with Surgeon Barklee, but as much as she charms him, I imagine there's only so much of a wailing babe he's willing to tolerate." She gave a rueful smile, but there was a lightness to her step as she turned and walked away. Or did he imagine that?

Juster said, "He's not immune to a pretty face any more than you and I are."

Ardhi? He certainly wasn't talking about the surgeon. He felt a pang of jealousy, followed closely by a jab of guilt. He had no more rights to Sorrel's friendship than anyone else. Blister it.

"Tell you one thing, Saker. We are getting out of this port as fast as we can victual and turn the ship around. I've already had quite enough of Javenka and we haven't even set foot on the ground yet."

29.

Gerelda and the Dire Sweepers

As Gerelda hurried along the cobbled laneway near their lodgings late one afternoon, her sopping skirt flopping around her calves like an over-enthusiastic wet puppy, she wondered why she'd once loved this town of Grundorp a scant seven years earlier when she'd been a student.

Because she'd been in love for the first time? Perhaps. Strange to think of that. She and Saker were friends now in a way that they'd never been then. Then they'd been discovering the joys of nights between the covers and the joy was all encompassing. Nights snatched, in secret and in defiance of university rules which decreed a celibate decorum, had an intensity of pleasure that was hard to find again.

With weather like this, no wonder we stayed indoors so much.

A passing cart splashed mud over her boots and skirt and more rain sifted down. Oh, how she wished Lowmian convention allowed her to wear trousers! She stopped for a moment to wrap her cloak more tightly, but no matter what she did, she couldn't keep the bottom of her skirt dry and her hat was inadequate. She hurried on.

Above the street, as if to add an extra coating of gloom to the grey weather, bedraggled black drapes of mourning flapped wetly from window poles. They'd been erected in honour of Regal Vilmar, who had died in his sleep several sennights past.

"Are you Gerelda Brantheld?"

Startled, she stopped, blinking through the drizzle. It was a man who'd asked: tall, middle years, well-spoken and well-dressed. He moved his right hand slightly to draw his cloak back so that she could see the sword buckled at his side. Blue unsmiling eyes regarded her without expression from below the dripping rim of his hat.

He wasn't alone. Two more men were standing behind him, both broad-shouldered fellows clad in the nondescript black of retainers.

The hair rose on the back of her neck.

"Who's asking?" she enquired, wondering if she ought to run. There was no one else nearby and she wasn't wearing her sword.

"You don't know who I am?"

She looked him over, taking in the polish of his black leather boots on the way. You could tell a lot from a man's boots. His were well looked after, a good fit; bespoke probably. "No, I can't say I do," she said. "Should I?"

"Yes. I think you should, seeing you've been asking a great many questions about me around the university, even researching my family in the library."

Hells. "I've done a lot of research lately, I fear," she said, giving him what she hoped was a bright, unworried smile. "If your family is a prominent one, then doubtless I have encountered your name. Could you be more specific, please?"

He wasn't amused. "Lord Herelt Deremer."

"The Deremers were indeed prominent in early Lowmian history." And damned secretive after that.

"I have a carriage waiting." He indicated the end of the street where a black coach was drawn up.

Black coach, black horses. Theatrical bastard. He must have given some pre-arranged signal because the equipage began moving towards them.

"I'd like to take you for a drive."

She scanned the street once more. It was growing dark and most people had already headed indoors, except for several pedestrians at the far end. "My mother always counselled against such boldness. We can talk here."

"It is raining and I prefer to be comfortable."

"I'm rooming right here." She indicated the building next to where they were standing.

"I know. And you have a lad waiting for you there. He's going to have a long wait, I fear."

Fob it. She looked up to the window of the room they had rented and thought she saw a face behind the distortion of the cheap glass.

"He might be better off forgetting he ever met you," Deremer continued.

That doesn't sound good. She thought of running and turned her head slightly to see what his two servants were doing. They had moved close enough to grab her.

"Don't think about it," he said and this time rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. The carriage drew up alongside them and she recognised the Deremer crest on it, carved wood embossed with gold portraying a mythical serpent. One of the retainers opened the door, and Deremer gestured for her to enter.

She snatched the only chance she had. She dived into the coach, wrenching the door out of the lackey's hand as she passed to slam it behind her. Leaping through the coach interior, she reached out for the door handle on the other side.

There wasn't one.

She sighed and sank down on to the seat.

Deremer opened the door once more and climbed in. "I'm not a fool, Lawyer Brantheld," he said. "It would be a grave mistake on your part to think so. I should also like to point out that your young companion is at the moment free and unmolested. Should you prove recalcitrant, that might change."

She inclined her head, but kept silent. Her heart beat uncomfortably fast. The carriage door was closed, leaving them alone, and after a moment they began to move. Leather blinds drawn over the glassless windows made an interior lamp necessary and one had already been lit.

"Have you nothing to say?" he asked. "Aren't you interested in where we are going?"

"If you want me to know, you'll tell me. If you don't want me to know, a question won't help."

"True. So let me tell you what I know about you. You are a lawyer and you are employed by the Pontifect. You are particularly interested in the Dire Sweepers, devil-kin, twin births, the Horned Death and the Fox family. And the Deremers, which latter interest is your undoing."

Va-damn, is there anything he doesn't know?