Some of the students—those who had sometimes gone into the ruins to salvage materials—led at a better pace than Alain and the others had managed on the way in. They had learned how to move fairly quickly and surely over the debris, and how to avoid the most dangerous areas.
Someone or something had tripped the deadfall since Alain and the others had passed this way. The front of the ruined building had collapsed into the rubble-choked street, partially filling the pit trap. No one was interested in seeing if there were any victims buried beneath the wreckage.
It was only late morning when they reached the bank of the Ospren, most of the students gazing in amazement at the river. “We live so close to it, but we hardly ever risk coming this far,” Student Leo said.
“If I have my way, someday you’ll get to see the Sea of Bakre,” Mari said, waving toward the tangle of wood that marked the Terror.
The students pointed, calling out to each other in delight, as Captain Banda came out on deck, a coil of light rope in one hand with the Mankey fist on the end. Banda spun the weight rapidly in a circle and cast it toward the landing, where a dozen eager hands grabbed it before it could slide back into the water.
In a short time, the light rope had been used to pull across a heavier rope which Dav and some of the students tied securely to a stone bollard that had not seen use for over a century. Next the boat was pulled across, fastened by some Mechanic link that Alain puzzled over, loosely holding it to the heavier rope so that the boat could not be lost to the current. With the students pitching in enthusiastically, all Alain and Asha had to do was stand sentry, watching the ruins inland and to either side along the river as Mari and Dav supervised shuttling loads of sacks and backpacks to the Terror.
Students Ndele and Leo, back from helping on the latest boat run, stopped near Alain, their eyes lit with awe. He realized that the Terror was probably the first new thing these students had ever seen, but instead of being afraid of it they were embracing the moment.
“I cannot believe such things as that craft exist, sir,” Leo said. “Even if I had any doubts about what the Lady does, they would be gone now. Is it true that Mages can see the future, sir?”
“Sometimes,” Alain said. “Though even when we have such visions, understanding them can be difficult or impossible.”
“Do you know if she will succeed?”
Alain did not let any trace of his worry for Mari’s future show as he answered. “She has a chance. But many work against her.”
“Why, sir?” Ndele asked. “Why would anyone try to stop such wonders from happening? And she said that there is much trouble coming if she fails? Why would anyone want that?”
“They do not believe the troubles will come,” Alain said. “Or they do not wish to believe the troubles will come. Or they fear to do anything and think that not acting will protect them from what comes. Or they think only of what will bring them gain in the days just ahead, without regard to what might happen in the months and years beyond that.”
“Like the rebels?” Leo gestured to the ruins. “We look on this every day of our lives, and we wonder why. What was the point? What was the purpose of so much death and destruction? The rebels must have thought there was a reason, a reason so strong they were willing to die for it, but it brought them nothing.”
“I do not pretend to understand the way all men and women think,” Alain said. “I was taught to think differently, but perhaps even if I had not been so taught, I would never have understood a willingness to see a city of people die for what I wanted for myself.”
“Mages are wise,” Leo said.
“Not all Mages,” Asha replied, putting a trace of humor into her voice that surprised Alain. “Some Mages are wiser than others.”
“Like the Mages who walk with the Master Mechanic?” Ndele asked with a grin. “There go the last of the bags. Leo, we have to get back.”
“Yes,” Leo agreed. “We shouldn’t have trouble making it before dark if we start now.” He shrugged. “And we can spend the trip back thinking up apologies for, uh, misinterpreting the wishes of the professors.”
“You are not the first to be led off the path of obedience by Lady Mari,” Alain said. “You will not be the last.”
“Thank you!” Mari called from the boat as Dav untied the rope from around the bollard so it could be hauled in. “Everyone! Thank you!”
Alain and Asha got in last, Alain nerving himself to step into what still seemed too frail a craft to dare the river amid the ruins of Marandur. He took a moment to watch the students moving off into the ruins, their ancient robes making them look like ghosts of Marandur’s past become visible in the light of day. And yet in their minds they held more of the future than did many of their professors. Certainly they had done far more to help bring a hopeful future to this world.
Mari and Dav rowed as strongly as they could, but the current pushed the boat downstream a bit before it reached the Terror. Alain and Asha pulled on the rope tied to the Terror to get the boat all the way back to the ship. After unloading, Mari helped Dav strap the boat below the waterline of the Terror again, hiding it from view.
Alain and Asha helped bring down the last sacks, then could do nothing else but move them as directed by Captain Banda, stacking bags here and there, making the already tight spaces below deck feel even more constricted.
“Why do we move these and then move them again?” Asha asked.
“We have to trim the ship,” Banda explained. “Like balancing the load on something you carry so it doesn’t weigh too heavily on one side. Some of it is trial and error.”
“And, unfortunately,” Dav added, “every error means another trial of moving junk around.”
After that, the Mechanics did obscure things with their pumps and other devices as Alain and Asha kept watch on the outside. The Terror, riding low under the extra weight, rose up again as the pumps hummed, then dropped a little as Captain Banda adjusted the ballast tanks so that the driftwood camouflage once again rode just on the surface like a natural tangle of wood.
They all sat down for a few moments to rest, the Mechanics looking weary.
“We can travel during the day on the way downriver as long as we match our speed to anything being pushed by the current,” Banda said. “But I want to wait until dark to leave Marandur so we can get past the guard posts along the river without risking that anyone might want to physically check for passengers riding the driftwood downstream. We know they’ll let us slide past by night, so let’s stick to that.”
“They might be able to see something of the Terror through the driftwood from their watch towers,” Mari agreed. “Like sunlight reflecting off something. We should do what worked last time.”
“I guess everything went well,” Banda commented, causing Alain to realize that no one had yet had a chance to tell him of their visit to the university.
“It ended well,” Mari said. “The professors didn’t want to help us at all, but fortunately they forgot to tell the students that.”
“Didn’t want to help? Did you tell the university professors about the ship from another star and how about important these texts are?”
“No,” Mari replied, her voice taking on sadness. “I didn’t trust them. If they weren’t confined to Marandur I’d worry about them alerting the Empire. I’m glad we’re leaving tonight.” She yawned. “I guess I didn’t get that much sleep last night.”
“I’ll take first watch on the boiler so you can crash and sleep until tonight,” Dav said.
“Dav, you’re a lifesaver. Oh, I forgot to offer my congratulations,” Mari said.
“For what?”
“Didn’t Asha—?”
Dav looked at her. “Asha?”
“Should I have told Dav earlier?” Asha asked Mari.
“Probably,” she said with a laugh. “But I don’t think he’ll be too upset when you tell him now.”
* * * *
Captain Banda had taken the Terror as far downri
ver as he dared before nightfall, waiting for darkness before approaching the Imperial watch towers guarding the river. Alain felt uneasy as he saw the towers finally come into view. “There are more lights.”
“Yes,” Banda agreed. “A lot more lights, and they’re down by the river banks as if the Imperials are expecting someone to make a break tonight. I’m going to take this very slowly, making sure we look like that wood on top is drifting along with the current and nothing more.”
“Boats,” Alain said.
“Blast. I see. Looks like three of them putting out into the river with lanterns on them. I can see the Imperials doing that when it gets foggy, to keep anyone from slipping past. But even if it might get heavy tonight it’s not nearly foggy enough for them to be putting out already. Make sure Mari and Asha are alert. This is looking bad.”
Alain slid down the ladder and warned Mari and Asha, then climbed back up to his seat. Mari appeared at the foot of the ladder, looking up. “How are the boats spacing themselves?”
“Pretty evenly across the river,” Banda said. “One in the center and two toward the river banks. If I continue to play at drifting, we’ll probably swing close by the one in the center.”
“Alain, are there any Mages in the boats?”
“I sense none,” Alain said. “There is a Mage well off to the left. He or she may be approaching, but has far to come.”
“If we get close to that center boat, can you or Asha make their lantern go out? That’s a small spell, right?”
Alain considered the question, then nodded. “Yes. I could make something go away to cause the lantern to stop giving light. It would reveal little to the Mage coming this way.”
“Why don’t we try that if we have to? If it looks like the Imperials might see something through our camouflage? Captain Banda, what do you think about opening the top hatch so we can hear anything the Imperials say while we drift past them?”
Banda looked down at her, frowning. “Do you think they’ll say something of interest?”
“Maybe. I’ve been around soldiers enough to know they pass the time by talking about women, men, sports, various forms of alcohol, and sometimes even about what they’re supposed to be doing. If this activity isn’t normal, I think there’s a decent chance the Imperials might be gabbing about it.”
“I think you might be right,” Banda said.
“Alain? Does the idea of opening that hatch cause any forewarning for you?”
“No,” Alain said, “but you know how little that means. I do agree it is important to hear, if the legionaries talk about why they are guarding the river this way tonight.”
“Everyone has to stay very quiet,” Banda cautioned. “We don’t want the Imperials hearing anything from inside the Terror. And make sure that curtain blocks all light from the inside.” He stood to lift the hatch, swinging it carefully all the way open so that it lay back concealed among the branches.
Alain sat, trying to be as quiet as possible, as the Terror drifted with the current toward the Imperial guard boats, which were holding their positions in the river. “They must be anchored,” Banda said in the merest whisper to Alain. “They’re well forward of the watch towers with the bright lights. That makes sense if they want to spot something in time for the watch towers to attack it as it goes past. But it means we’ll deal with the boats and then the towers, not both at once.”
The only light was that filtering in from outside, but Alain could hear faint noises from the shore and on the boats as orders were called and acknowledged.
As Banda had guessed, the Terror’s path took her closer and closer to the middle boat. A lantern was mounted on a staff on the bow, held by a hook on the top. The sound of an authoritative voice came faintly through the hatch. “Is there anybody on that rat’s nest?”
The reply was just barely loud enough to hear. “I can’t see anyone.”
“Check it out when it gets closer.”
“I thought we were looking for a ship? Some sort of Mechanic ship?”
“That’s right.”
“What’s it look like?”
“We don’t know. The dead one who called out to our sentries from the city walls got taken out by the barbarians before he could say much. But it’s a ship or boat of some kind, made of metal and big enough to carry four people plus cargo.”
Dead one. That was what the legionaries called anyone inside the city, because by Imperial decree all of them were officially dead. The voices were growing very clear in the otherwise silent evening. Alain gazed through the small windows giving the best view of the guard boat, his spell ready, as the Terror drew so close that Captain Banda began trying to gently, unobtrusively steer away.
“Remember,” the boat commander said, his voice loud enough to be heard without trouble. “Normal orders for anyone leaving the city don’t apply. Don’t kill whoever’s on that ship if we see it. If it’s who the dead one said, whoever captures her will win the Emperor’s favor.”
“Her? It’s…her?” one of the legionaries asked with a slight quaver.
“Just do what you’re told! And don’t let that pile of junk hit us!” the boat commander ordered. “Can you see anything on it?”
A legionary was standing up and leaning a bit toward the Terror as the light from the boat’s lantern illuminated the driftwood hiding the steering room. His expression grew puzzled. “What is—?”
Alain had kept his eyes fixed on the hook holding the lantern. His Mage training told him it was an illusion of a hook, holding the illusion of a lantern. There was not much power available on the river here, but there was enough to allow him to temporarily lay a very small illusion over the one that Alain saw. The hook was not whole. The part at the top was not there.
In that instant Alain felt his strength drain a bit, and the top of the hook vanished.
The lantern dropped straight into the water.
The legionary leaning to look at the Terror’s disguise swung his gaze and attention to the fallen lantern, which was bobbing on the water and rapidly sinking.
The light went out.
A babble of voices erupted, yelling out curses and commands, as the Terror drifted on past the boat. Looking back, Alain saw the legionaries, dimly illuminated by the other lights in the area, trying to get another lantern lit and hung up.
By the time they succeeded, the Terror was well past the boats.
One of the watch towers briefly played its mirror-focused light on the Terror, then went back to concentrating on where the boats were maintaining a picket line.
Banda slowly increased speed, drawing away from the line of Imperial defenses. He took the time to close the hatch again, then called down to Mari. “How much of that did you hear?”
“Enough,” Mari said, looking up toward Banda and Alain. “I guess we underestimated how much some of the professors wanted to stop me. They decided to warn the sentries around the city.”
“The professor Don could have ordered someone else to carry the warning,” Alain said. “Some student who would be willing to take such a risk.”
“You’re probably right,” Mari said. “I can’t see any of those masters making it to the wall through the ruins. It’s a good thing the barbarians got whoever it was before they could say too much. I wouldn’t normally wish that sort of fate on anyone, but I have to make an exception in this case.”
“Those river defenses were still being improvised tonight,” Banda said. “If the Imperials had had more time they would have put up something a lot tougher to get through. Fortunately, they seem to have a misleading description of this ship.”
“Yes,” Mari agreed. “Whoever it was heard something from the students who helped us carry the texts to the river, but may not have heard about the camouflage or how low this ship rides, or maybe just didn’t have time to tell the legionaries about it. Even if they took off at a run from the university as soon as they got that information it would have taken them until at least sunset to reach the wall and
call to the legionaries.”
“They want you alive,” Banda said.
“Lucky me.”
“Why did that one soldier sound scared when he mentioned you? Like…her.”
Mari did not say anything, so Alain answered. “Mara.”
“Oh! That’s right. Like the ones around Landfall. I’m sure if there was any truth to that Mara stuff, Mage Asha wouldn’t have left you alone around Dav.”
Mari glared up at Banda. “Not funny.”
Banda was looking ahead, chewing on his mustache. “They’ll send word down the river as fast as they can. Do you think they’ll ask the Mechanics Guild to help pass the word? If so, we might as well give up now.”
“The Imperials won’t tell the Guild,” Mari said. “They suspect what I came to Marandur for, and the Emperor wants that for himself. He knows if the Mechanics Guild hears about it they’ll grab it. Maybe the Imperials will let the Mages know enough to pass messages by their own means, but given the stakes I bet the Imperials will keep it all to themselves and depend on fast couriers.”
“I hope that you’re right. But keeping ahead of fast couriers riding relay horses is going to be hard for us. And as soon as the Imperials at each location along the river get their orders, they’ll start throwing up blockades, the sort of thing even a pile of driftwood won’t be able to get through.”
Mari sighed. “Can we stay ahead of the Imperial preparations?”
“I don’t know.” Banda increased speed again. “We’ll need to run like blazes. And if they’ve already sent word to the chain, we’ll have problems right off. We’ll get there in about half an hour. Tell Dav that we’ll be running all out until we reach Landfall and get out to sea. No stops or slowing down during the day.”
“That means several days straight of sailing. Who’s going to steer?” Mari demanded.
“Me. If we hit some quiet stretches, you or Dav can handle it for a little while.” Banda glanced back. “Is this something you or Asha could do, Alain?”
“I do not think so,” Alain said. “I see what you do. But I cannot see how to do it.”
“That’s all right. Your contributions are valuable enough. That one legionary had spotted something under our camouflage. If you hadn’t made that lantern drop, he would have alerted the others and one of them would have climbed on to search us.” Banda rubbed his eyes. “Mari, I’ll have to slow down a lot when we near the chain, because if it has been raised and we run into it at high speed, the bow could be stove in. We’d sink in no time at all.”