The Black Prism(141)

The water was so clear, Kip could see the tube cutting through the waves below them. Gavin had given each tube little wings. It was on those wings that the whole skimmer was flying above the surface. The wind was incredible, but Kip could hear Ironfist whooping over it.

Hours later, when the sun was halfway to the horizon, Gavin decided to switch back to sculling before they came in sight of Garriston. As the skimmer settled back on the waves, Ironfist stepped away from his tube.

His face was a writ of wonder, awe. He actually physically trembled. Then he swept into an elaborate bow before Gavin. “My Lord Prism,” he said, “you have made the world small.”

Gavin bobbed his head, acknowledging the bow. “Small, maybe. Safe, no. Did you see a corvette over that way?”

Ironfist shook his head. Their watercraft, no longer lifted up by the action of the tubes, sat low in the water. But by the time Ironfist had drafted new oars, a corvette appeared, a league away, plowing right toward them. Ironfist cursed.

Gavin grinned recklessly. “So Kip, Liv, you ever fought pirates?”





Chapter 56





“Surely you’re joking,” Ironfist said. “My Lord Prism,” he added belatedly and not enthusiastically.

“Let’s go hunting,” Gavin said.

“My lord!” Ironfist said. “I can’t let you put yourself in that sort of danger. We can outrun these Ilytian scum. They’re not threatening our mission or us.”

“Do you know what this summer is, Commander?” Gavin asked.

“I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“It’s time for the Ruthgari handover of Garriston,” Liv said as if the words left a bad taste in her mouth.

“Do you know why she sounded so happy about that?” Gavin asked Ironfist.

“I’ve never served on this side of the Cerulean Sea,” Ironfist said.

“I’m sure you know that each country that sided with me during the False Prism’s War has rotating stewardship of Garriston.”

“Two years or something for each country, so no one gets long term designs on Tyrea. Can we have this conversation at a safer distance?” He glanced at the pirates. They were making good progress in the afternoon wind.

“That’s what it was supposed to do,” Gavin said. “Instead, each governor has taken it as a personal chance to get rich. The Parians had the first rotation, and they stripped Garriston of everything that survived the fires. Every governor since then has followed their lead.”

Liv spoke up. “During the first year, most governors try to keep the Umber River clear of bandits so the crops can get through. But most of the crops come in too late on the second year. The governors don’t want to lose men killing bandits just to enrich the next governor from some other satrapy, so they withdraw into Garriston. Only the most optimistic farmers even bother planting on the second year anymore.”

“While repeated sacking of Garriston and the surrounding country is tragic, it doesn’t have much to do with these pirates,” Gavin said. “The handover happens after Midsummer’s, two weeks from now. The Ruthgari merchants and craftsmen and wives and whores are busily loading their ships to take whatever plunder they’ve managed to steal this time home. Or just whatever they brought with them. I suppose just because every governor so far has been corrupt doesn’t mean the smiths who shoe their horses are, too.”

“This is fascinating,” Ironfist said, “but can’t some long guns shoot eighteen or nineteen hundred paces?”

“It’s farther away than that,” Gavin said. “Point is—”

“Finally, thank Orholam,” Ironfist muttered.

“Ahem. Point is, there’ll be an armada heading back to Ruthgar in two weeks. The pirates descend like wolves, and they take any ships that get separated from the main fleet.”

“Serves them right,” Liv said.

Gavin stared at her, and she scowled defiantly, but couldn’t handle the eye contact, so she scowled at the waves.

“Some merchants try to beat the rush and get out before the rest of the fleet, hoping they’ll avoid the pirates.”

“But here they are,” Liv said.

“Exactly,” Gavin said. “And if there’s war this summer, especially—Orholam forbid—if we lose, there’ll be chaos. Dozens of ships, maybe hundreds, all going their own direction, fleeing. A lot of the people in those ships will be Tyrean, Aliviana.”

She looked chastened.

“Smoke,” Kip said.

All conversation on the little scull stopped cold. Everyone turned to look.

“It would take an extremely skilled gunner to come within a hundred paces of us at this distance,” Gavin said, but Kip noticed he didn’t take his eyes off the corvette either.