The White Road - Lynn Flewelling [111]
The boy's whistle was answered with another and was followed by the rattle and splash of the rope ladder being let down for them.
Rhal--together with his helmsman, Skywake, and Nettles, the first mate--was there to meet them as they climbed aboard. "Welcome, my lords. And Micum Cavish, too! Well met, sir. It's been a while. How's the leg?"
"I manage," Micum laughed, clasping hands with Rhal.
The captain was dark and stocky, and going a bit bald, but still rakish enough to attract women in any port. He was northern-born, like Micum and Alec, and with his black beard he could pass for a Plenimaran. On occasion, he had. He greeted Seregil and Alec warmly, then turned to Rieser and extended his hand. "I haven't had the pleasure, sir."
Rieser ignored the hand. "I am Rieser i Stellen."
"I can't place your accent."
"No need to," Seregil told him.
"Fair enough." Rhal was used to secrets. "It's been a long time since you've called for me."
"We had a bit of trouble."
"You have a 'bit of trouble' more often than not," Rhal noted as he led them belowdecks to the small guest cabin. "What was it this time? Angry wizards? Plots against the queen? An outraged wife? Or did you get caught in the wrong house with your fingers in the jewel box?"
"Slavery, actually," Alec told him.
Rhal shook his head. "Well, that's a new one."
"You are lords and thieves?" asked Rieser.
"Depends on the company," Seregil replied.
Their cabin was more luxurious than Alec recalled. The wide bunk was fitted out with a red velvet coverlet with silver fringe, and an ornate lantern on the hook overhead cast fretwork shadows across the small polished table, the velvet tufted chairs, and the silver cups and crystal decanter in a fancy leather box on the narrow sideboard.
"What happened here?" asked Seregil. "It looks like a Street of Lights whorehouse."
"We've had good fishing," Rhal replied with a wink as he poured them cups of fine Zengati brandy.
"So Dani said. Have you given the queen her share?"
"Of course, but that doesn't mean I can't keep the best back for myself. And you, of course, as our patron. I've sent your share in coin to your man in Wheel Street."
"Thank you."
Alec knew that Seregil never asked for an accounting; he had more gold than he knew what to do with in various Rhiminee money houses, under various names. He did the same with clothing and traveling gear; he had caches all over the city in sewer tunnels and abandoned houses, always ready for a quick change or escape.
Rhal and Rieser remained standing as the others found places on the room's two chairs and the bed. "So, where are we bound this time?"
"Riga," Alec told him.
Rhal raised an eyebrow. "That's a tall order. The Overlord has half his navy anchored there, and most of the ships are full of marines."
"You can put us ashore outside the city where you'll draw less attention," said Seregil.
"It still means changing the sails. We'll have to put in at one of the Strait Isles for at least a day." He'd captured a set of striped Plenimaran sails soon after the Lady first sailed and often used them to slip into enemy waters. "I can have you across in a week, if the winds cooperate. In the meantime, if the shape in that bag of yours is what I think it is, perhaps you and Lord Alec can provide us with some entertainment during the crossing."
Seregil reached into the bag at his feet and took out the harp Adzriel had given him. He plucked a few notes and grimaced. "After a bit of tuning."
Alec reached into his own bag and took out one of the iron collars. "We need another of these, too."
"I've got a collection of them, taken off the poor bastards we found on some of the ships we've taken," said Rhal. "Now, for accommodations. There isn't room for all of you in here."
"I'll berth with the crew, if they have an extra hammock,"