The Inner Circle: The Knowing (23 page)

With a sharp intellect and a natural
hunger for knowledge, Seteal was learning very quickly. Far-a-mael
only felt regret that El-i-miir hadn’t shown a similar enthusiasm
for her studies. He’d had to drag her every step of the way. Even
now she showed little appreciation.

Of course, Seteal’s situation was
somewhat different from El-i-miir’s. It was illegal to affiliate a
human in any situation other than an emergency, but that was a mere
technicality. Far-a-mael needed Seteal to be ready. He needed her
to stand up, be strong and never back down. The day would come when
the world would depend on her, and Far-a-mael refused to go down in
history as the man who’d damned them all to torrid. Sar-ni deserved
better than that and he was determined to do her memory proud.

As the Keacos’ wagon trundled into the
outermost parts of Sat Elmore, Far-a-mael checked the sun and was
pleased to find it was not terribly far above the horizon. Perhaps
they would find a riverboat before the day’s end. This city was
older than Sitnic. Many of the buildings were either decrepit or
refurbished versions of their former selves. The streets were
narrow and paved, densely packed with merchants selling their
wares. Reaching the other side of the city was slow-going and it
took until midday to get there.

‘
Wait here,’
Far-a-mael ordered when they reached the river port south-east of
Sat Elmore. He got off his horse and headed to the dock where a
young man with a generous girth sat listlessly. ‘Excuse me,’
Far-a-mael beckoned as he approached.

‘
What?’ the man
grumbled before turning around to notice Far-a-mael’s eyes. ‘I mean
. . . excuse me . . . what can I do for you?’ he blathered, getting
to his feet and offering his hand. Far-a-mael ignored it. It smelt
like fish and he was allergic to most varieties.

‘
I’m looking for
Captain Waxnah,’ Far-a-mael stated. ‘I’ll pay him more handsomely
than originally promised, as I have more cargo than originally
intended.’

‘
He won’t be back
until late.’

‘
Then tell him to
meet me here tomorrow morning,’ Far-a-mael said. ‘He is not to
leave without me. Have I made myself clear?’

‘
You may have.’ The
man extended his hand. Far-a-mael rolled his eyes and dropped two
gold coins into his palm.

‘
Now we have a
contract,’ Far-a-mael said threateningly. ‘If you do not pass along
this message I will find you. And that is not something you want to
happen.’

‘
Yes, sir.’ The man’s
eyes widened.

‘
Good boy.’
Far-a-mael nodded.

‘
Who should I tell
him this engagement is with?’ the young man called as Far-a-mael
headed away.

‘
Gil’rei Far-a-mael,’
he replied without a backward glance.

The evening proved to be uneventful,
which was exactly what Far-a-mael had hoped for. The travellers
stayed at an inn that was rather inexpensive and delivered meals to
their rooms. Far-a-mael kept Seteal’s lesson short--spending most
of it tampering with her aura--and went to bed early. In the
morning, he put his feet on the cold floor and snorted in disgust
at the sight before him.

‘
Mister Geld,’ he
grumbled at the silt chained up in the corner. The boy glared at
him. Far-a-mael cracked his fingers and prepared to send the
creature back to sleep.

‘
You know I told the
truth,’ Ilgrin whispered.

‘
Of course I do,’
Far-a-mael said stuffily as he shoved his feet into
boots.

‘
Then why?’ He asked.
‘I’m just one silt. Capturing me won’t do you any good. I have
nothing to offer under interrogation. I don’t know
anything.’

‘
You must be very
confused.’ Far-a-mael smiled softly, remembering a silt he’d once
known and cared about. ‘Poor boy. I’d explain everything, but I’m
afraid it must remain my little secret for now.’

In many ways, Far-a-mael wished he
could tell young Ilgrin his plan, if only to share its brilliance.
The silt was destined to be his trophy. When the elders saw that
Far-a-mael had successfully captured a silt so far north of Old
World, they’d easily be convinced that he was a scout gathering
reconnaissance for an upcoming invasion. With a little further
encouragement, they’d agree to counter-attack. Then, all Far-a-mael
would need was time to finish preparing his weapon, Seteal.

Far-a-mael removed the silt’s chains
and affiliated him to stand up. He tossed Ilgrin a cloak and was
satisfied by his compliance in putting it on. ‘Let’s go.’
Far-a-mael pointed at the door. ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’

‘
Briel,’ Far-a-mael
called when he left the building to find the man standing by his
wagon. ‘Have you seen the others?’

‘
Seteal be headin’ ta
the docks on her own.’ Briel shrugged. ‘Fes and El-i-miir be here.’
He jabbed a thumb at the wagon. ‘Is that . . . ?’ He nodded toward
the cloaked figure beside Far-a-mael.

‘
Yes,’ he replied,
before calling out to El-i-miir. ‘Take over for me.’

‘
Come,’ El-i-miir
said softly and the silt followed obediently.

‘
I nah like him bein’
in my wagon,’ Briel said sternly.

‘
We have to keep him
out of sight, but rest assured I’ll have him out as soon as we find
our riverboat.’ Far-a-mael climbed into his saddle and ordered the
horse forward. He was growing increasingly weary of the islanders
and looked forward to them parting ways. Fes’s faith in the silt’s
story was becoming increasingly evident and it seemed as though
she’d begun to pity him. El-i-miir, too, showed similar signs of
weakness. Such attitudes flew in the face of what Far-a-mael was
working to achieve with Seteal.

The streets weren’t terribly crowded
that morning and Briel’s horses made speedier progress than they
had the preceding day. When they reached the docks, Far-a-mael
spotted Seteal sitting on the jetty, shoes beside her and feet
dangling in the water. He was about to call out to her, when a
voice distracted him from the other direction.

‘
You must be Gil’rei
Far-a-mael.’

‘
Captain Waxnah?’
Far-a-mael asked of a man who could only be described as a pirate
forced into uniform. His hair was wild, his eyes were grey, and his
face was decidedly unfortunate.

‘
The gil who thinks
he’s so important that I should put off all other engagements until
I’ve spoken with him?’ Captain Waxnah announced.

‘
You’ve made the
right choice.’ Far-a-mael waved toward his cohort waiting several
strides away. ‘We seek passage to Sat Elam.’

‘
You’ll have to go by
road.’ Waxnah went to turn away but Far-a-mael grabbed his arm to
stop him.

‘
Going by road is not
an option,’ he said fiercely. ‘Our journey is a pressing
one.’

‘
I’m sorry,’ Waxnah
said firmly, ‘but going to Sat Elam would mean travelling through
Cold Wood and seeing as though you’re the sensible type, I cannot
imagine that is something you’d suggest.’

‘
I’m not suggesting
it.’ Far-a-mael pulled out a small bag of gold coins. ‘I’m
demanding it.’

The captain took the bag and felt its
weight before returning it. ‘My men have families.’ Waxnah shook
his head. ‘You want them to risk certain death for a handful of
coins?’

‘
No one is going to
die.’ Far-a-mael took a hold of the Ways and sent comforting
strands of yellow and orange into the man’s aura. ‘I’m a very
powerful gil. Your safety is all but guaranteed.’

‘
Double it,’ Waxnah
said. ‘Double it and we have a deal.’

‘
All right.’
Far-a-mael retrieved a second bag from his pocket. He began to hand
it over, but snatched it back before Waxnah’s hand could reach out.
‘I have a condition. I require the exclusive use of your brig for
my prisoner. You have one, don’t you?’

‘
Of course.’ Waxnah
waved his hand dismissively, his eyes focused on the bags in
Far-a-mael’s hand. ‘The brig is yours.’

‘
I need you to listen
very carefully,’ Far-a-mael rested a hand on the man’s shoulder and
put his face close to his ear. ‘My prisoner is a silt.’

‘
No.’ Waxnah stumbled
back several steps, his eyes widening in disbelief. ‘Keep your
money, Elglair! I will play no part in this.’

‘
He is
incapacitated,’ Far-a-mael reassured him, focusing on the Ways and
reworking his aura into a calmer state. ‘I wouldn’t have felt the
need to inform you of his presence except that I need to be sure
your brig is strong enough to hold such a creature.’

‘
You want to
put a demon on my ship?’ Waxnah gaped in open astonishment.
‘
And
take it through the heart of Cold Wood? Are you out of your
mind?’

‘
I am a qualified gil
on an important mission.’ Far-a-mael dangled the bags before
Waxnah’s eyes. ‘If I didn’t think it were possible, I wouldn’t
jeopardise my task. Now take the money . . . or leave it. Either
way, we’ll be taking your boat.’

‘
I’ll need a third
bag for my men,’ Waxnah pushed.

‘
No,’ Far-a-mael
said. ‘This is our arrangement.’

Waxnah remained transfixed, uncertainty
flooding his features, but at last he reached out and took the
bags. ‘My men cannot know,’ Waxnah warned. ‘I’ll send them on a
break so that we can take . . . your prisoner to the brig. We set
sail in one hour.’

‘
Wise choice.’
Far-a-mael smiled. ‘You’ve just become a wealthy man.’

‘
This way.’ Captain
Waxnah turned to head along the docks. It wasn’t long before their
destination became obvious. Anchored at the final jetty, with three
masts and plenty of sails, Waxnah’s riverboat was the biggest by
far. ‘Getting that wagon on will be a push,’ Waxnah murmured,
glancing over his shoulder to check if his passengers were
following.

After making their way up a ramp and
onto the deck, Far-a-mael and the others followed Waxnah down a
steep set of stairs--a ladder, really. They followed the captain
through a semi-lit corridor with worn red carpet underfoot and
polished wooden walls either side. Small doors that lead to cramped
quarters lined the hall. At the end, they came to a spiralling
metal staircase that served as a second entrance to the livestock
holding area.

At the opposite side of the space there
were rows of pens designed for the transportation of horses and
other animals. Far-a-mael nodded, satisfied that the horses would
be suitably looked after. On the wall directly opposite the
staircase was a heavy iron door with a small wheel on the
front.

‘
This will do
nicely.’ Far-a-mael smiled as he approached the brig.

Forged from iron and concrete, the
small room was secure enough to hold any silt. There were no
windows, only a small hatch at the bottom of the door through which
the occasional plate of food might be passed. Far-a-mael opened the
door, affiliated Ilgrin inside and chained his wrist to a small
bench within. He closed the door and returned his attention to
Captain Waxnah. ‘It would be prudent to order your men to keep
their distance,’ Far-a-mael warned. ‘Should any of them have to
come below decks to fulfil their duties, they must be told not to
listen to anything the prisoner says. Tell them he is a
madman.’

‘
Agreed,’ Waxnah
replied, heading back to the spiral staircase. Once they’d
re-entered the corridor above, Waxnah showed his passengers to
their rooms before his men returned to retrieve the Keacos’ wagon
and put it up on deck.

Getting the wagon on board required a
great deal of effort, but with the crew working together, it was
soon parked successfully on deck. A short while later, Far-a-mael
found himself watching Sat Elmore fade into the distance. Keeping
his eyes on land seemed to help with his queasy stomach. He’d only
been on sea-craft a few times in his life and had never quite
gotten used to the constant rocking motion.

‘
Well, I’ll be
damned,’ Captain Waxnah said crudely, shielding his eyes from the
sun and staring up at the nearest mast.

‘
What is it?’
Far-a-mael followed the man’s gaze, only to regret the irritation
it caused him when his eyes locked on a boom pole several strides
above.

‘
I’ve never seen a
bird like that before,’ Waxnah scratched his head.

‘
I have.’ Far-a-mael
sneered at the seeol flittering among the sails.

‘
What is it?’ Waxnah
murmured in curiosity. ‘It’s not like any seabird I’ve ever
seen.’

‘
It’s not,’
Far-a-mael replied. ‘You must have arrows on board.’

‘
Arrows?’ Captain
Waxnah said in surprise. ‘We too often sail Middle Sea and the salt
air makes them useless, but I’ve got some throwing
knives.’

‘
Get them for
me.’

‘
What
for?’

‘
Oh, forget it!’
Far-a-mael snatched out his belt knife and threw it with precision,
but the bird flew away at the same time, causing him to miss his
target.

‘
Nearly got him,’ the
captain chortled. ‘Better luck next time, but jolly good shot. I
enjoy a little sport when I find the time. When I get home I like
to--’

Far-a-mael walked away without waiting
for the captain to finish. He didn’t have the time nor the patience
to contend with foolish blathering. Hoping for some time alone with
his thoughts, Far-a-mael leaned back against the railing, only to
be approached by Briel a moment later.