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.Two men were bustling about its deck, gathering up the last of some precious cargo.A third stood at the bow and watched; he glanced up shortly when Damien approached but didn’t acknowledge him otherwise.Damien waited.The cargo was loaded into a coarse handwagon with a shipping emblem seared into its side.When it was full the two men handed documents to the third, who read them by moonlight.And nodded.Not until the laborers had grabbed hold of the handcart and begun to pull it toward shore—not until they were out of hearing, and almost out of sight—did the overseer acknowledge Damien with his eyes and slowly walk over to meet him.“C’n I help you?”Damien nodded towards the boat.“Yours?”The overseer assessed him.“Maybe.”“I need to hire transportation.”The man said nothing.“I’m prepared to pay well for it.”The man chuckled.“That’s vulkin‘ fortunate.It don’t come cheap.”Somewhat disdainfully, Damien pulled a small leather pouch from his pocket; he rattled it once, so that the sound of metal striking metal was clearly audible.The man’s nostrils flared, like an animal scenting its prey.“Where you headed?”“East.Southern shore.Near the mouth of the Achron River.You interested?”The man coughed, and spat into the water.“You’d need more’n money to buy that kind of passage.”“What, then?”“You need a pilot that’s vulkin‘ set on suicide—which I’m not.That’s some of the worst shoreline on the Serpent.” He grinned, showing stained and chipped teeth.“How about somewhere else for vacation, eh? I hear there’s a good river up north.”“It’s business,” Damien said shortly.“Then I’m real sorry.” He looked hungrily at the purse, but his expression didn’t soften.“That’s death on the rocks, that trip.I don’t want none of it.No one will.Not unless you can find some young fool of a merchant’s son with a spanking new yacht to wreck.and then you’d just die in the landing, along with‘im.You catch my drift?”Damien stretched open the mouth of the purse and spilled two gold coins into the palm of his hand.The man’s eyes widened.“Perhaps you know someone who can take us.”The man hesitated—it seemed that two parts of him were at war with each other—but at last he shook his head.“Not in Kale, Mer.Don’t know anyone foolish enough to try.Sorry.” He chuckled.“Wish I even had a good lie, for that kind of money.”Damien was about to speak when another voice—smooth as the night air and nearly as quiet—intruded.“I believe the gentleman doesn’t understand the value of your currency.”He turned quickly toward the source of the voice, and found Gerald Tarrant standing not ten feet from them.“Permit me,” the tall man said, bowing slightly.After a moment Damien nodded.Tarrant approached—and withdrew a thin golden disk from his tunic, which he displayed to the mariner.The side that Damien saw was a familiar image: it was the earth-disk that the stranger had displayed in Briand.But whatever was on the other side made the mariner’s face go white beneath its stubble, the jaw dropping slack beneath.“Tell him what he needs to know,” Tarrant said quietly.The man looked over his shoulder—northward, across the Serpent—and then stammered, “Not here.You understand? You need to go to Morgot.That’s where the kind of men would be, who could help you.Morgot.”Damien looked questioningly at Tarrant, who explained, “an island just north of here.A caldera, made into a port.It occasionally serves as a way station for the.shall we say, less than reputable sort?”He reached over toward Damien, so smoothly and so quickly that the priest failed to react in time.He took the gold coins out of his hand, and gave them to the mariner.A faint chill touched the priest’s flesh where contact had almost been made.“You’ll take his party over to Morgot tomorrow.” Tarrant’s tone was one of confident authority.It was hard to say exactly where in his words or his manner the threat was so evident.“No questions asked.Agreed?”The man took the money awkwardly, as though not quite sure what the ritual of acceptance should be.“Yes, your lordship,” he whispered.“Of course, your lordship.” He scrambled down to the deck of his craft and disappeared hurriedly into the cabin; after a few minutes had passed without him reappearing, Tarrant turned to Damien, clearly satisfied that the man would not disturb them.“Forgive me for intruding in your business.”Damien forced himself to respond to the politeness of the man’s manner, rather than what he imagined lay beneath the surface.Which made his skin crawl.“Not at all.Thank you.”“I think you now have what you came out into the night to find.” Tarrant said quietly.“Now I do,” he assured him.Tarrant laughed softly.“You’re a curious man, priest.Courageous enough to take on the demons of Kale, not to mention the rakh’s vicious constructs.but not quite confident enough to share a dae’s fireside with another human traveler.”“Are you that?” Damien said sharply.Tarrant’s expression tightened, ever so slightly.The pale eyes narrowed.“Am I what?”“Human.”“Ah.Let’s not get into philosophy, shall we? Say that I was born a man—as you were—and as for what a man may become.we don’t all follow paths that our mothers would have approved of, do we?”“A bit of an understatement, in your case.”The silver eyes met his.Cold, so cold.The dead might have eyes like that.“You don’t trust me, do you?”“No,” he said bluntly.“Should I?”“Some have chosen to.”Ciani wants to, Damien thought.And: I never will.“You killed that boy.In Briand.”“Yes.I told you why.”“And I believed it—at the time.” It was impossible to tell from the man’s expression whether he would buy a bluff or see right through it.He decided to chance it.“I didn’t know then what I do now.”“Ah.” Tarrant’s eyes were fixed on him: piercing through his wordly image, weighing his soul.“I did underestimate you,” he said at last.“My apologies.It won’t happen again.”He felt like he had won points in some game, without even knowing what he was playing.Or if he would ever see the rulebook.He indicated the boat that was tied up before them, in whose cabin the mariner was presumably still cowering.Probably won’t show his face until we’re out of here, he thought.Then corrected himself: Until Tarrant’s out of here.“What was it you showed him?”Tarrant shrugged.“I merely indicated that I understood the situation [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]