that is why.
Laxity and sloth, and men who look the other way. That will never be while I command this ship.’
He took care not to glance at Sandor Ott. But a part of him knew that his words were for the spy, a reminder of what Rose alone could deliver.
‘We are being hunted, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘In all likelihood that sorceress has reached Masalym by now, and learned that we have fled. Whether or not she realises that we
don’t have the Nilstone, she’ll want to take us – and she has the right ship for the job. The
Kirisang
, also known as the
Death’s Head
. The vessel’s
every bit as large as the
Chathrand
, and a warship through and through. Or so Prince Olik claimed. Of course I do not trust him, or any other dlömu. But we have seen Bali Adro firepower
for ourselves.’
He gave them a moment to remember it: the horrific armada that had passed so near them, great squalid ships held together by spellcraft, bristling with terrible arms.
‘Now take heart, for Arunis
is
dead. Lady Oggosk sensed it, and the Shaggat’s return to life is the proof. He is gone, and the Nilstone is gone, and the ship is both
provisioned and repaired. You may have heard that there was a hairline crack in the keel—’
They had
not
heard: Fiffengurt and Elkstem gaped, struggling to contain themselves.
‘—but I assure you that rumour is false: no ship of mine will ever touch the Nelluroq with a damaged keel. No, the
Chathrand
will not disappoint us. The sorcerer is gone, and
if any crawlies remain, we shall deal with them as with any vermin.
‘In short, gentlemen, we are done with the South. The last stage of this mission lies before us. We must find our way to Gurishal. The Shaggat must go to his tribe, to wreak havoc in the
heartland of the Mzithrin. Only then will we be suffered to return to Arqual, and our families.’
Ott and Haddismal looked deeply content. The others showed varying degrees of confusion. ‘But sir,’ said Fiffengurt, ‘ain’t it nearly time to land our men on the
Sandwall? We talked about it just yesterday. Men with mirrors, to relay the all-clear signal from Masalym, when it comes.’
‘We will be landing no one on the Sandwall,’ said Rose.
‘How, then,’ said Chadfallow, ‘are we to know when Macadra has left the city, and what course she is on?’
‘I say again, no need.’
‘But I don’t understand, Captain,’ said Fiffengurt. ‘How will we know when it’s safe to return for Pazel and Thasha and the others? Can Lady Oggosk tell you that as
well?’
‘Oggosk has nothing to tell me in this regard,’ said Rose, ‘because we are not going back.’
The explosion was just as he had foreseen. Chadfallow and Fiffengurt rose, shouting in rage. ‘You wouldn’t dare, Captain!’ thundered the quartermaster. ‘Leave them
behind? How can you even jest about such a thing?’
‘I make no jests,’ said Rose.
‘You will
not
do it!’ shouted Chadfallow. ‘What’s more, you dare not. The Nilstone—’
‘—is in Hercól’s hands,’ said Ott, ‘or perhaps those of the Masalym Guard who rode with him. In either case we can do nothing about it. Believe me, I hate to
leave a thing of such power unclaimed. It would be a great joy to present it to our Emperor.’
Chadfallow was gaping. Fiffengurt was nearly out of his head. He stepped towards Rose, hands in fists. Sergeant Haddismal, grinning, merely seized his arm. Ott was watching Chadfallow with
lively curiosity. Neither the spy nor the Turach bothered to stand up.
‘This is unthinkable,’ said Chadfallow, shaking with rage. ‘Even for you, Rose. We gave you our trust.’
‘Oh, Doctor, you’re priceless,’ laughed Sandor Ott. ‘You gave nothing of the kind. Tell the truth, old man: you never expected to see them again. You knew they were
choosing exile among the fish-eyes for the rest of their days – indeed, that that was the best possible outcome for the ardent fools, and far from the most likely.
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