Tales of the Two Rings: Volume 1 Read online

  Falreen straightened. “I assumed—I was having it charged, sir. Ready for action.”

  “Ready for action?” Soren brought up his spyglass and swung it back around the expanse of Aether in front of the Starwind.

  Ulru snickered and leaned against the quarterdeck railing.

  Falreen threw the Kolan a nasty glare. “It…just seemed prudent, sir. Once the frigate gets in range—”

  Soren sighed. He lowered the glass. “How many guns does that frigate have, Fal?”

  The Nevagan paused for a long moment. “Three,” he conceded at last. “At least. Maybe four if they have a second swivel mount at mid-decks—”

  “Then I think we can agree that shooting our way out of this situation really isn’t a valid option, is it?” Soren rubbed his forehead with a frown. “Ugh, my head. Saleera, eel oil.”

  The girl vanished down into the hold.

  Fal chewed angrily on his beard. “With respect, Sunmaster, I fought in the Nevagan Fleet during the Pretender Wars. Those Llathese ships are filled with a bunch of eel-choked—”

  “Women?” Soren turned his spyglass back on the golden sail far astern. “Like the Star Marines? Did you ever tangle with them during the Wars?”

  Fal turned an even darker shade of crimson.

  Ulru shook his head. “You’re not thinking straight, Fal. We fire on a Xanate vessel and we’ll be hunted throughout the Two Rings. They’ll behead the lot of us as pirates.”

  “Seems to me that’s what we are,” Falreen rumbled.

  “Not yet,” Soren said sharply. He took down the glass and softened his voice. “You’re a great warrior, Fal. No one’s debating that. You’re also the most courageous man I’ve ever known. But right now we can’t think like soldiers. We have to think like…like…”

  “Like pirates,” said Saleera sweetly. She stepped up to Soren and handed him an intricately carved crystal goblet filled with milky white eel oil.

  “I was going to say smugglers,” Soren corrected, “but I suppose pirates works just as well." He took a long drink from the cup and grimaced. “Starting to go sour.”

  Ulru cleared his throat and glanced back at the golden sparkle of the pursuing ship. “Soren?”

  Soren held up a hand. He closed his eyes and held the crystal goblet to his forehead.

  Falreen and Ulru both exchanged glances.

  There was a long, tense moment of silence, broken only by the soft hum of the solar wind in the sails and the whining of the ropes.

  Ulru looked nervously towards the rear of the vessel. “Sunmaster, perhaps you would like to know the course and—”

  “I already do,” Soren said, his eyes still closed. “Twenty-three staads distant, making about twenty staads an hour, has the weather gauge on us. With a full hold we’re making only seventeen, so I expect she’ll be in firing range in seven hours, just under a watch. Now still it so I can think.”

  Saleera gave a half-smile, then disappeared back into the hold.

  Falreen turned towards the floatship’s bow. “We’re still making for the Harnassus Gap,” he explained. “I didn’t think it wise to change course until—”

  “Still it,” Soren snapped.

  Falreen stopped.

  Soren smiled. “That’s it.” He opened his eyes.

  Ulru narrowed his eyes. “What’s it?”

  “Sir,” Falreen tried to venture once again, “about issuing the sidearms to the crew, I think—”

  “Noted,” Soren said with a brisk wave of his hand. He drained the last of the eel oil, then set the goblet down next to the helm. “We’ll never make Harnassus. We’re still at more than a rotation away. It’s time we run full on to the wind. Fal, make a new course heading, straight on towards the Belt, due south. All sails out. We’ll get as much speed as we can.”

  Falreen’s face tightened, but he saluted. “Aye, aye, Sunmaster.”

  Soren nodded. “Good man, Fal. Sound the mark before we turn. I want my eyes on that frigate when we do.”

  Falreen turned and barked out the orders to the helmsman, then the aethermen on the deck.

  The men rushed to their stations.

  Ulru uncrossed his arms. “Forgive my ignorance, Soren, but if we run straight on to the Belt, won’t we miss the Gap?”

  “Yes,” said Soren. He glanced down at the sun-compass by the railing, then out at the stars. “Make sure the ship’s name is covered, Ulru. I’d guess they haven’t made us out yet, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. And raise one of the colors. House Esdra. There should be one in the forward storage compartment.”

  Ulru crossed his arms. “You really think they’ll fall for that?”

  Soren gave a quick shake of his head. “Of course not. But at this point it can’t hurt.” He looked back at the Kolan. “Where’s that mage of ours?”

  Ulru rolled his eyes. “Aether sick, last I saw. She was puking her guts out below deck.”

  “Well get her up here. It’s time to see if she’s worth all the trouble we had to go through to get her off Nevaga.” Soren shivered. “Throne of Pel’na it’s cold out here.” He glanced around the quarterdeck irritably. “Where’s Saleera disappeared to? I need her to fetch my—”

  Saleera’s sleek form appeared from the doorway, a long red cloak in her hands. She slipped behind Soren and pulled the cloak on over his shoulders.

  Soren grunted. He handed the goblet to the slave girl. “More eel oil, Saleera.”

  She took the cup with a bow, then turned back towards the hold.

  Ulru watched the slender girl go, admiring her fine figure.

  From the deck below came Falreen’s booming voice as he ordered the aethermen about.

  “Soren,” said Ulru as he turned to go, “we can’t outrun this frigate.”

  The Sunmaster tapped his hand restlessly against the table. “That’s where you’re wrong, Ulru.”

  The Kolan tilted his head in confusion. “How do you figure that? Aren’t they faster than us?”

  Soren chewed his lip in thought. “It’s not a matter of speed. It’s what we haven’t heard yet, old friend.”

  Ulru raised both eyebrows.

  “No warning shot,” Soren said with a satisfied smile.

  The merchant floatship was still plowing along on its course, its sails flashing in the sun. No change in speed, no attempt to turn.

  Of course, it wasn’t heaving to either.

  “Sunrider?” a gunnery chief said with a quick salute. “Shall we fire a warning shot?”

  Halmeera trained her spyglass on the distant ship. She still couldn’t make out the name.

  “Sunrider?” the gunnery chief persisted.

  Halmeera didn’t reply, her mind doing the math. The Tenacious was dangerously low on shard cartridges for the guns. A warning shot would certainly get the merchant floatship’s attention, but it would also waste a precious round.

  It was standard procedure to fire off a shot, but Halmeera was almost certain that this floatship had already spotted them. A warning shot would be a waste, and the Tenacious still had a long trek back to Llathe.

  She shook her head. “No. Stand by to load guns on my order.”

  The gunnery chief nodded. “Aye, aye, Sunrider.”

  Halmeera turned away from the gundeck. Above her head the circular sails snapped and fluttered in the solar wind.

  Seven hours until they intercepted the floatship. Say six and a half hours until Tenacious got into maximum firing range.

  The numbers buzzed in Halmeera’s head, and she didn’t like it. Six and a half hours would put them approximately two hours past the safety margin for a return vector to Llathe. Add in the time it would take to board the merchant ship, inspect its—

  “Sunrider!”

  Halmeera halted and turned.

  The sails of the merchant floatship were rippling and sparkling intermittently.

  Halmeera raised her spyglass.

  The merchant floatship was swinging to the right.

  Halm
eera turned to a nearby aetherwoman. “Get the Sunmaster at once.”

  Soren watched the Llathese frigate keenly through his spyglass. The deck of the Starwind rolled lightly under his feet as they turned.

  The four solar sails flapped and strained hard on their rigging as the solar wind billowed into them. Starwind jumped forward like a beast let out of its stall.

  Ulru stepped up onto the quarterdeck. “Fal’s upset.”

  Soren kept the frigate dead center in his sight. “He’s a big boy. He’ll get over it. You cover the ship’s name?”

  Ulru rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Got two aethermen on it.”

  “There she goes,” said Soren with a smile. “Can you see her, Ulru?”

  The Kolan glanced back at the frigate. “Following us, I assume?”

  “Matching our course.” Soren lowered the spyglass. His thumb tapped the wooden side of the instrument. “Just what I thought.”

  “What?”

  The Sunmaster tucked the spyglass back into his belt. “She’s slow in the turn.”

  Ulru looked back at Soren. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

  Soren ignored the gray-skinned man. He looked around the quarterdeck. “Where’s that mage?”

  Ulru shrugged. “I don’t think she’s coming up. She can barely stand up, much—”

  “It’s not a request,” Soren said curtly. “Get her up here. I don’t care if you have to carry her over your shoulders, but get her here. We’ll meet in the ward room in five. I want the mage there too.”

  Ulru frowned. “Why?”

  “Because I think she’ll be interested to know what’s going on,” Soren replied, “and she might know something we don’t.”

  “I doubt that,” Ulru grumbled.

  Soren shrugged. He scanned through his spyglass once again, a grin on his face.

  “Your mood certainly seems to have improved,” Ulru noted drily.

  “Are you kidding?” Soren adjusted the spyglass in his hand. “This is the most fun I’ve had in six months.”

  “Report.” Sunmaster Bala strode onto the deck, her dark blue cloak fluttering behind her.

  Halmeera nodded towards the distant shape of the merchant ship. “She’s running full on to rimwards, Sunmaster.”

  Bala lifted her spyglass. “We staying in her shadow?”

  “Aye, Sunmaster,” Halmeera confirmed.

  “She’s not making for the Gap?” The question was rhetorical, more of a musing.

  Halmeera remained quiet.

  “She’s seen us,” the Sunmaster continued. “No doubt of that. She’ll never make the Belt at this rate. Not before we can catch her, anyways.” She adjusted the glass in her hands and gave a derisive snort. “She’s flying colors now. House Esdra. Does her Sunmaster think we’re complete fools?”

  “I…don’t know.” Halmeera couldn’t help an uneasy glance back towards Llathe.

  If Sunmaster Bala noticed, she gave no sign of it. “The only fool here has to be that Sunmaster. What is he thinking? Even if by some miracle he outruns us to the Belt it would be suicide to force his way through.”

  The solar wind fully inflated the Tenacious’ sails, pushing the frigate along at an incredible speed.

  Halmeera pursed her lips. She didn’t dare speak, but the thoughts bubbled unbidden into her mind.

  Tenacious was still steadily gaining on the merchant ship, but with the solar wind now full behind her she was going even faster rimwards. They were covering more staads in shorter time, making the safe return vector to Llathe vanish that much more quickly.

  It was almost as if that floatship Sunmaster somehow knew—

  “Make sure Geera has her marines ready when we close in,” Bala said as she peered through the glass. “I’ve a feeling it will come down to boarding before—hello, what’s this?”

  Halmeera instantly lifted her own spyglass.

  The merchant ship was turning. Again.

  Bala scowled. “Match their course,” she ordered.

  Payu grabbed the side of bunk. She tried to breathe, slow and steady, slow and steady…

  Her stomach lurched, then spun and twittered like a hundred moon-moths flying in different directions all at once.

  She choked, retched and dry-heaved towards the wooden pail that lay on the deck of her cabin.

  Nothing. It had been six rotations of emptying all the contents of her stomach repeatedly every time the floatship so much as shuddered. She didn’t think she had anything left to give.

  Payu collapsed to one side against the bunk, cold sweat on her face.

  Why couldn’t the blasted floatship just stay still? That was the second turn in less than five minutes. What was that eel-choked Sunmaster doing, sailing through a meteor shower?

  Payu wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and coughed twice. The acid burned her throat. At least the floatship seemed to have finally steadied out.

  She could hope, anyways.

  Payu staggered to her feet, then sank onto the bunk. Her dark purple hair was pulled back away from her face into a practical ponytail, one that she had been wearing ever since she had come on board. The simple brown robe she wore was stained from her bouts of sickness. It still stank badly. Water on a floatship was a precious commodity. No extra for washing clothes.

  If only her mother and father could see her now, she thought viciously. Think how proud they would both be of their only daughter.

  She flopped back onto her back, one arm over her face.

  So here she was, wearing peasant’s clothes and sick to her stomach from the swaying of the floatship. If anyone were to look at her now they would undoubtedly mistake her for a green-skinned Llathese chamber maid, not a white-skinned Ardelan mage, one of the vaunted Firstborne.

  Tears of self-pity welled into her eyes.

  She set her jaw and forced them away. She had wept almost as much as she had been sick the last ten rotations, ever since she had left Ardela.

  She wouldn’t cry. Not again. She was done with tears, done with regret and longing. They did her no—

  A pounding knock sounded at the door.

  “Go away,” Payu croaked.

  The door flew open.

  “Soren wants you.” It was that despicable Kolan, the one with the shifty eyes and the quiet voice.

  Payu lifted her arm, but didn’t stir from the bed. “Didn’t you hear me? I could have been dressing in here.”

  Ulru gave a disinterested shrug. “No modesty on a floatship, mage. Now come on.”

  Payu sat up, her heart beating faster. She paused, choosing her words carefully. “Who says I’m a mage?”

  The Kolan smiled. “Hard to keep secrets on a floatship, too. Now hurry up. We’re in a bind and the Sunmaster wants to see you now.”

  Payu swung her feet off the bunk and felt her stomach lurch with the motion. She grimaced and tried to keep from retching again. “Why?”

  “Didn’t say.”

  Payu got up and swayed for a moment. She steadied herself against the bunk. “Give me a couple minutes first,” she said. “My hair’s a mess, and I haven’t—”

  “Name of the High Father,” Ulru breathed, “are you mist-struck, woman? Nobody cares. Now let’s go.”

  Payu made a face. She lifted her head and tried to look as dignified as possible. A daughter of the Firstborne might be summoned like a common slave girl, but she didn’t have to like it. “Lead on.”

  She stepped out onto the deck, then followed Ulru up the stairs towards the quarterdeck. Her steps were slow and halting. The blue, star-filled Aether swirled all around her, dancing crazily before her eyes. She forced herself to look down at the deck, breathing regularly as she counted each step.

  A purple-skinned Sageeran stood on the quarterdeck, a red cloak wrapped around his tall form. He glanced up at Payu with a smile. “Ah, the mage. Good, good. Accomodations to your liking, I trust?”

  Was this the Sunmaster? Payu hadn’t met him yet. Of course, she had m
ostly seen only the inside of her small cabin for the six rotations they had been out from Nevaga. But this Sageeran wore no weapon or rank of office, not even a vibrosword or a shield-belt. He looked for all the worlds like a common merchant. And a poor one at that.

  Payu opened her mouth to respond, but she didn’t get the chance.

  “I’m Soren, Sunmaster of the Starwind,” the Sageeran continued with a smile. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. It’s Pagu, isn’t it?”

  She finally found her tongue. “Payu, Sunmaster.”

  “My mistake,” Soren said graciously. “Payu, then. And call me Soren, please. We have a bit of a problem I was hoping you could help us with.” He turned to the helmsman, another Sageeran with a long black beard. “Swing us around two points to the left, Ereen. Southeast.”

  “Course southeast, aye, aye sir.” The helmsman cranked the floatship’s wheel hard.

  Payu felt her stomach churn at the movement. “Southeast?” Her brain moved sluggishly, digesting the information. “In the Aether? How is that—?”

  “Solar southeast,” Soren elaborated. He tapped the sun-compass near the helm. “In the Aether the sun is always solar north. First time on a floatship, I take it?”

  Payu nodded. Her stomach was lurching and heaving.

  Soren nodded amiably. “I see. As to our little problem, if you glance aft you’ll see there’s a Xanate ship that wants to board us. I thought a mage like yourself might have some good advice on how to proceed—”

  Starwind creaked and groaned as it swung hard to the left. The sails flashed and sparkled as the solar wind rippled across them.

  Payu swayed. The deck rolled under her feet. She struggled to stand upright. “Mage?” she managed to say. She was a daughter of the Firstborne. She would not be sick in front of this man. She would not, she would not, she would not—

  Soren glanced up at the sails, then swung his spyglass around towards the floatship following far astern. “Keep that up every few minutes,” he said to the helmsman. “Two points right to southwest, then two points back left back to southeast.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Soren turned back to Payu as if there had been no interruption. “Your ring, for starters. Gold, with a miniature blue power gem. They don’t give those to everyone. Then there’s that bag of yours, the one you keep stowed in your cabin. A gem satchel, right?” He glanced over at Ulru. “Ulru here keeps me advised of all the little details.”