Текст книги "The Actors: A Hwarhath Historical Romance"

Автор книги: Eleanor Arnason

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"Lew –" Ahl said and paused, then continued. "Lewekh is a fine hunter, though what he knows best is marshes."

"Cholkwa and I have lived off the land," said Perig.

"Do what you can," said the captain.

Cholkwa had no problem with this idea. But Leweli refused. "I can't leave the child alone. What if she wakes and begins to cry? What if she becomes ill? Men can't take care of children."

"The child is healthy as a tsin and sleeps like a rock," said Ahl.

"Usually," said Leweli. "But I will not leave her."

In the morning the three of them set off. It was another bright day. Small clouds dotted the sky. A mild wind blew, stirring the bronze-brown forest, making spots of sunlight dance over the ground. There were no trails. Obviously, no large animals lived on the island, though – as the sailors had said – birds were plentiful. So were edible plants, and Perig turned out to be excellent at finding these. Soon he had a basketful. Ahl knew most, though he was especially happy with something she hadn't seen before. "Tsin ears," he called the plant.

It was fleshy and looked like its name, except for its color, which was a reddish-purple. The plant grew on tree trunks, so it looked as if the trees had ears and were listening: an eerie sight. Perig cut them off, using a knife. The cut ends did not bleed, a relief to Ahl.

On the far side of the island was a moor, covered with low vegetation. The birds there were large and heavy, like the halpa which people raise on many parts of our home planet. Like halpa, they flew when startled, but only for a short distance. Then they dropped down and tried to run.

"This can't be called a sport," said Cholkwa and shot one.

Seen close, it was covered with glossy brown feathers, except for its legs and feet, which were naked and bright blue. There were areas of bare skin on the head, circling the animal's round yellow eyes, so it seemed to wear spectacles, though this image would not have occurred to Ahl. In her age spectacles were rare, and it's likely that she never saw a pair.

"What do you think?" asked Cholkwa.

"It looks like a halpa," said Perig. "Except for the blue skin. Maybe it's a relative. If so, it ought to be tasty, especially in a stew with my ears."

They spent the midday killing birds. All had the same areas of blue skin. So it wasn't a disease, a thought which had occurred to Ahl. When they had enough, Perig found a long straight branch. They fastened the birds to it by their bright blue feet and carried them back this way, Cholkwa at one end of the stick, Ahl at the other. The wind had died. Ahead of them a trail of smoke rose into the cloudless sky.

"They must be heating pitch," said Perig. "The ship was taking on water, the captain said."

"How could it not ?" asked Cholkwa. "If I had known what kind of trip this was going to be –"

"We couldn't stay in Sorg," said Perig. "Nor return to the north; and we have survived the journey."

"Wait till we've reached our destination before you say that," replied Cholkwa.

They reached the inlet in late afternoon. The ship's cook, a burly man with gray-brown fur, descended on them and seized their birds. Perig followed with his ,sin ears.

Dinner was roast bird. The cook would use the ears tomorrow, Perig said. "The men are hungry. A stew takes time; and tsin ears require special preparation. I have to say the birds taste fine roasted. I'm almost certain they're related to halpa."

"How did they get here?" asked Cholkwa. "They could hardly fly."

"Maybe they've been here all along," Perig said. "Placed by the Goddess when she made the world."

"Or maybe people left them," said Ahl, licking her fingers.

"That's possible," Perig admitted.

Most of the sailors stayed on shore that night, as did Perig andCholkwa. Ahl suspected the two men were interested in sex, now that they were safe and could get away from their female companions. Nothing could be done in the cabin. No self-respecting male would do anything so intimate in a room containing women.

But on a dark beach, surrounded by other men – She envied them and went back to the ship.

The next day the Taig captain said, "I'm tired of your comrade's laziness. What is his excuse today? Sickness? An unlucky omen?"

"He still hasn't recovered from the storm," said Ahl.

"Nonsense," said the captain. "He will go on shore. You said he's a good hunter.

We need food, and he clearly needs exercise and fresh air."

Argument was impossible. Leweli went with Ahl and the actors, though she looked unhappy and began complaining as soon as they were in the forest.

"Merhit is a good witch," said Ahl. "I'm confident her magic will keep the child safe. We have no choice, cousin. A captain must be obeyed."

THIS TIME the birds were harder to find, but at noon they came on a flock, all grouped together in an open space on the moor, scratching with large blue feet and pecking. It was easy to kill as many as they were able to carry. Laden with their prey, they returned to the beach.

The pitch pot was turned over, and a black pool of pitch lay next to it. Bodies, the Taig sailors almost certainly, lay scattered on the sand.

"Bad luck!" said Perig.

Could they flee? Ahl glanced around. The forest was close, but not close enough.

Ragged strangers moved toward them, holding bloody swords.

Perig stretched his arms out to the side. His hands were open and empty.

"Obviously we can't fight you. But I ought to mention if you kill us, you will be killing a pair of women."

"What do you mean?" asked one of the men. His accent was thick, but Ahl could understand him.

Perig gestured. "Those two are women."

The man frowned. "They don't look it."

"Ahl, pull off your tunic," Perig said.

She did as he asked, dropping the tunic and unfastening the band that held her upper breasts. The moment she was bare, the men looked down. This was encouraging. In spite of being pirates, they had not lost all sense of right behavior.

"Put on your tunic," said one of the men in a stifled voice.

She picked up the tunic and pulled it on.

"There is a baby on the ship," Perig continued in his usual pleasant voice. "The other woman, the one holding the stick with birds, is the mother. I assume you're planning to kill us or maroon us. But you can hardly kill women or maroon them with unrelated men."

"How do you know what we can do?" asked the man who had spoken previously. Most likely he was the leader.

The men around him looked uneasy. One said, "Jehan," in a nervous tone.

"And why are these women traveling in disguise with men who aren't relatives?"

added the man named Jehan. "I know foreigners lack self-respect, but this seems worse than usual."

"Why don't you disarm us, which is the obvious next step, and then we can talk,"

said Perig. "If you've left the Taig cook alive, you might give the birds to him."

Jehan swung his sword. Perig fell.

"Goddess!" cried Cholkwa, falling to his knees beside his lover. Ahl was certain now. She heard love in the young man's anguished voice.

Perig sat up, feeling his head.

"I used the flat," said Jehan. "But if he keeps talking, I'll use the edge."

"He'll be quiet," said Cholkwa and stood, helping Perig up. His hands, on the older man, seemed as careful as if he were holding a fragile treasure: something made of glass and gold.

"Now," said Jehan. "Give us your weapons."

They went down the beach, still carrying their birds, surrounded by pirates. Now Ahl could see beyond the Taig ship. There was another ship, somewhat smaller, outside the harbor entrance, blocking escape. Obviously it belonged to the pirates. Squinting against the glare of sunset, she tried to make out details, but couldn't tell if there were pirates on the Taig ship.

Clearly they held the beach and the remaining sailors on shore: a group of seven, two injured, one badly. The Taig cook was wrapping an already-bloody bandage around his chest. Guards stood around the prisoners, holding weapons that had belonged– Ahl was almost certain– to the Taig.

"Are the rest dead?" asked Ahl.

"Some," said the cook in an angry voice. "Most were on the ship, repairing the rigging. They are still there, guarding it against capture."

One of the guards said, "My cousin Jehan thought it would be a good idea to attack from the land. That's where you seemed to be, if your smoke was any indication. If we came sailing in from the west, you'd see us and make preparations. Better to circle to the south – the island would hide us – and land a party in the little southern harbor, then come through the forest and take you by surprise."

"It worked," said Jehan stubbornly.

"We don't have their ship," said the guard.

"We'll get it," Jehan said. "In the meantime, we have dinner."

"And two women," said one of the other pirates.

"What?" asked the guard. He was a stocky man with dark fur going silver over his shoulders. In Ahl's opinion, he looked sensible, not a trait she associated with

piracy.

"I'm a woman," said Ahl. "And so is she."

"This is turning into a perplexing mess," the guard said. "What are two women doing on a Taig ship, disguised as men? Taig women don't travel, and why would any woman disguise herself as a man? Surely you know how dangerous it is! We could have killed you by mistake."

"Can I speak?" asked Perig.

"If you want to," said the guard. "And have something useful to say."

"He's one for chattering," said Jehan in a warning tone.

"Let him chatter," said the guard. "I want information."

"These two women needed to get south in a hurry and went in disguise, because they couldn't find a women's ship."

"Are you related to them? You don't look similar."

Perig hesitated briefly, then tilted his head in assent. "The women in our lineage are tall and have an authority we men lack."

"Which lineage?" the guard asked.

"Tesati," said Perig.

"Not one I know."

"It's to the north," said Perig. "At the edge of the Great Central Plain. Or rather it was there. The Unraveling has destroyed much. Another family overwhelmed ours. The men are dead, except for us."

"Why are you alive?" asked Jehan.

"We weren't home when the end came. Cholkwa and I are actors and often travel."

"Actors!" said the guard, looking interested.

"When we did come home, we found –" Perig smiled briefly. "No home. Our male kin were dead. The family that killed them, the Chaitin, had gathered in our female relatives and the children. We should have killed ourselves. It would have been the decent thing to do. But we found these two hiding out, along with Leweli's baby. They didn't want to be Chaitin. There are women who hold this kind of grudge."

Everyone was listening intently, of course. It was a good story, told excellently. But now Ahl saw a look of confusion on the Taig cook's face, followed by a look of horror. The cook was remembering the night before, she thought. Perig and Cholkwa had made love on the beach. The Taig sailors had noticed and been undisturbed. Traveling companions often give each other this

kind of comfort, provided they are the same sex and not related. But if the two actors belonged to the same family, the act was incest. The cook opened his mouth, then closed it and glanced down, going back to work on his injured comrade.

A near thing! And not over. The cook might still decide to denounce the actors.

"Maybe we should have given our kinswomen to the Chaitin," Perig said. "They would have been safer; and there is always something offensive about the idea of women without a family. Such things happen to men. We know it! But women should live inside a double wall of matriarchs and soldiers.

"These ethical problems are never easy to untangle. In the end we decided to rely on the old rule, which says that men should not make decisions for women.

That power lies in the hands of their mothers and their female relatives; and they were not available, nor were they kin, since they had become Chaitin, while these two remained Tesati. They asked us to escort them south; and we agreed out of loyalty, which is not the foremost male virtue. That, of course, is

directness or honesty. But loyalty is one of the five."

"I told you he talked a lot," said Jehan.

"Are you really actors?" asked the guard.

"Why would I lie?" asked Perig.

"I've never seen a play," the guard said. Ahl heard longing in his voice.

"Well, then," Perig said. "Let the Taig cook fix our birds. You can feast tonight and see The Death of Eh Manhata."

"He's dead?" cried the guard. The other pirates made noises indicating surprise.

"What happened?" asked Jehan.

"He was betrayed by men he trusted, captured and –" Perig stopped. "The play will show you. Wait till tonight."

"It's all very well for you to talk about waiting," Leweli said. "But I have a child on board the Taig ship. I need to get back to her."

"We can't let you go," said Jehan.

"Why not?" asked the silver-backed guard.

"For one thing, the Taig might be willing to surrender their ship in order to get these two women back, especially if they have a baby on their hands."

"You are willing to hold women hostage?" asked Perig in a shocked tone.

Jehan frowned and raised his sword.

"Don't kill him," said the guard. "I want to see the play."

"For another," continued Jehan, "we can't let the women tell the Taig whatever they may have found out about us. What if they've realized how few of us there are? And how difficult it will be for us to take the ship?"

A look of pain crossed the guard's face. "Very well," he said. "Keep the women here."

The pirates untied the cook's feet, so he could work, helped by pirates. Soon a new fire was burning, and the cook was eviscerating birds. As for Ahl and her comrades, they settled in the sand close to the Taig prisoners. The guard settled with them, obviously anxious to talk. His name was Jehan, he said, the same as his cousin. Though he was Jehan Silverback, and his cousin was Long Jehan.

"Long?" said Perig. "He's no taller than you are."

"That isn't the way he's long," said Jehan Silverback, then looked embarrassed.

"It's hard for me to remember these two are women."

"This isn't a situation where it's easy to remember anything having to do with manners," said Perig. "Though I'm glad to know you're a self-respecting man. How did you end in this line of work?"

He came from an island, said Jehan Silverback. "Where exactly I won't tell you, in case we decide to let you live." It was one of two islands that lay remote from all other land. The guard's family lived on one island. Another lineage – "our breeding partners" – lived on the other. Both islands were steep and

stony, surrounded by rocks and shoals. Not much to look at, according to the guard, though his voice sounded affectionate to Ahl. "But the cliffs are full of nesting birds; and the waters next to shore are so full of shellfish that they are like stones on a beach; and there are plenty of fish."

The problem was the islands were treeless. The islanders lived in houses made of stone and sod. Their fuel was driftwood and the oil of marine animals.

Lacking timber, they could not build boats. Without boats, they would not be able to fish or reach their neighbors. "We might not starve, since we could still net birds and gather shellfish. But how could we breed without boats to carry men from one family to the other? We'd die out, unless we were reduced to

inbreeding." There was horror in the guard's voice as he said this. "We are pirates because we can't buy the ships we need. Nothing we have to sell is of sufficient value."

"Couldn't you cut timber on an island like this one?" asked Ahl.

"We gather wood for ordinary uses on this island," the guard said. "And we could make some kind of wretched little dinghy from the timber here. But a good ship requires large trees, metal tools and fittings, fabric for the sails, rope and w

most of all – skill."

"You want the Taig ship," said Perig.

"Yes. We thought we were in luck when we saw your smoke. Since the island is uninhabited, we knew that meant a ship, most likely one that had put in for water and repairs. The sailors would be tired from fighting the storm which blew them here; they would be preoccupied by work, and they would not expect any

trouble. Why should they, in a place this remote? Things didn't turn out exactly as we expected. But we have prisoners, eleven of you now. If we can't take the ship by force, maybe we can strike a bargain."

"It really doesn't seem wrong to you, holding women and a baby hostage?" asked Perig.

Jehan Silverback scratched his forehead. "It's a difficult situation and not one we expected. No one lives in this part of the ocean except us and our neighbors.

When ships come here, it's usually to fish or hunt. The crews are male. What family would risk its women on work that is hard and dangerous and unpleasant, and which does not require any of the usual female skills? One does not negotiate with a storm or a fish."

There were, of course, many families whose women fished. But Ahl was not going to argue with this pirate, who seemed to have strong opinions about women's work. Nor did she wish to bring up the worst danger of this region, the one that

would almost certainly keep women away: murderous pirates.

"You have never encountered a women's ship?" asked Perig.

"To the west of here we have," the guard said. "Not often, since we rarely go far into the narrow ocean. When we realize that a ship is crewed by women, we let it go with an exchange of greetings. We are not monsters! My cousin is right. You talk too much."

Perig said, "Let me go and help the cook. Then you'll be free of my foolish questions."

Jehan Silverback gave permission. The rest of them stayed where they were. By this time the sun was down and the sky darkening. Lamps began to glimmer on the two ships. This was a frightening situation, though not as frightening to Ahl as it would be to a modern woman. Having met the humans, we know that it is possible for a species to flourish in spite of behavior that our ncestors would find unthinkable; and we wonder if our own behavior is fixed. Could our men turn into monsters like human men? Could they turn on women and children? Is it possible that violence has no natural limits?

None of these questions occurred to Ahl, sitting on the darkening beach in another age. Instead she worried about the baby on the Taig ship. Surely it would wake soon, be hungry and cry. She worried about the possibility that her shipmates and the two actors would die, if not tonight, then tomorrow; and she

worried about the rest of this unlucky trip. Would they ever get to Helwar?

Would she ever see Ki again? But she did not fear harm to herself or Leweli. Was she fight to be fearless? At this distance in time we cannot say.

As dark closed around them, the cooking fire burned more brightly. Working in a red glare, the Taig cook roasted birds, while Perig prepared his tsin ears.

Dismembered, the birds went into an iron pot with water, the ears and herbs.

"This is something" said Jehan Silverback. "A proper feast and then a play. We never have events like this on our island."

Soon there was food, halin, and fresh clean water, drawn from one of the island's springs. None drank water, except the prisoners.

"Eat moderately," Perig whispered as he settled next to Ahl.

"Why?" she hissed.

"The ears have to be prepared in just the right way. If not, they are toxic. Not fatal, but I hope –"

A pirate glanced at them. Perig stopped talking.

He had poisoned the stew. She whispered a warning to Leweli.

"This is likely to be a long night," her cousin whispered in answer.

While the pirates ate, Perig and Cholkwa consulted. Their costumes and props were on the Taig ship, so they borrowed from the pirates and prisoners: a long red ragged cloak, a stained yellow tunic, a staff with impromptu ribbons. They set torches on long poles in the sand and drew lines to mark a stage.

Then – the pirates full of food, but still drinking – they began.

This was The Death of Eh Manhata, Cholkwa announced. A true story, acted by men whose native home was on the Great Central Plain. "We have not lied. This story is the way things actually happened."

The first scene was between Perig in the red cape and Cholkwa. Perig was Manhata: arrogant and confident, the greatest man in the world. Cholkwa was a younger relative, worried about his kinsman. He was too trusting, Cholkwa said.

The men who sought a meeting with him were liars. They would betray him.

Strutting back and forth, the red cape swirling, Perig said, "Nonsense."

It really was remarkable. Perig, who had always been mild and reasonable, in no way formidable, now held everyone's attention. It seemed to Ahl that he had grown in size. His stride was forceful. His voice commanded. Even the cloak had changed, becoming – how could Ahl describe it? – richer and heavier, fit for a great leader, a warrior without equal.

In vain Cholkwa argued. Perig would not listen. Off he went to the foredoomed meeting.

Cholkwa left the circle of torchlight, returning shortly in the stained yellow tunic. Now he was one of the false allies, a wheedling plausible man, who had been – one sensed – handsome in his youth and was still in the habit of behaving seductively.

How did Cholkwa manage this? His own good looks were mostly gone, and he seemed older. The stained tunic helped, making him look seedy, but it was something more. The way he held himself? His voice? He didn't command attention like Perig; and Ahl could still see him inside the character he played, the way one saw people inside festival dolls, when firelight shone through the stick and cloth bodies. Nonetheless, he impressed her.

Ahl leaned forward, intent. Around her the pirates and prisoners were silent.

At first Manhata was oblivious. The other man, the ally, praised, made promises, even flirted, though carefully. Manhata ignored the flirtation and accepted the praise, expecting nothing less. Gradually Cholkwa's manner changed. Sharpness

crept in. He began to mock the old warrior at the same time that he became more openly seductive.

A disturbing scene. Around her the pirates shifted and muttered. One stood up, stumbled into the bushes and threw up.

Understandable, though maybe it was the stew.

It took a long time for Manhata to understand what he was hearing. Finally he turned on the ally, shouting, "How dare you?"

The ally explained. The trap had closed. Manhata's men, the guard he'd brought with him, were dead by now. Manhata would join them soon. "You have lived too long and become a fool, deserving of a shameful death. I promise you, old man, that is the kind of death you'll get."

What happened next was impossible to understand. Perig barely moved, yet she could see every idea and feeling in his mind. Disbelief came first, then anger – a brief hot flash, then fear. How was this possible? Manhata was fearless. As she watched, Perig grew smaller, collapsing in on himself like a festival doll at festival end, when the sticks that hold it up are folded. Now she saw Manhata's age. He was more than eighty at the time of his death. His life had been one of constant violence. Who knew how many injuries he had endured? Surely

his body must have reached its limit. And he was alone. His sisters, who had guided him through his long career, were dead. What was left for him, except his terrifying reputation?

Courage was left. She could see that now, as the old man straightened, meeting the gaze of his former ally.

"Do what you will," Manhata said. The pirates sighed. As they did, Perig stepped out of the torchlight. Cholkwa joined him. A moment later the young man returned wearing his own tunic. Now he was a messenger, bringing news of Eh Manhata's death. He stood quietly, looking out at the audience, and described what

happened next. It had been a bad death, long and deliberately painful; and Manhata handled it less than well. The Man Who Broke Lineages was himself finally broken. Ahl had heard most of this before. It was no more pleasant a second time. Of all the brutal things done during the Unraveling, this was the worst. Around her the pirates gasped and groaned. "Why?" cried more than one.

"His former allies wanted us to remember him this way," said Cholkwa. "If he had died in battle or by some ordinary form of execution, his reputation would not have been diminished. But this –"

"You should have lied," said Jehan Silverback. "You should have given him the death he had earned. How can you cooperate in something so contemptible?"

Perig stepped back into the torchlight. The red cloak was gone. He was Manhata no longer.

"Anyone can be broken," he said in his ordinary, quiet, even tone,"No one escapes shame except through luck. This is something that Manhata may have forgotten, for a while at least. But he learned it at the end.

"That's one thing to remember. The other is, his enemies are fools."

"Why do you say that?" asked Jehan Silverback.

"In old age, when he no longer had his sisters to advise him, Manhata acted in ways that must be called foolish. This can't be denied. It's true as well thathis courage failed him at the end.

"But think of the rest of his life! I'm from the plain, as my cousin told you.

For more than fifty years, Manhata rose above the rest of us like a thundercloud that would not dissipate. Every time we looked up, there he was – his head in sunlight and lightning around his shoulders. Can a year or two of folly, a day or two of pain unmake a life like his?"

"Yes," said Long Jehan.

"No," said Jehan Silverback.

"Time will determine," Perig said in his usual reasonable tone.

That ended the play. The pirates continued drinking. By now they were obviously intoxicated. Several more threw up, lurching past the prisoners into the forest shadows. Long Jehan grabbed Cholkwa's arm, pulling him down on the sand beside him. Perig settled by the other pirate cousin. Ahl couldn't tell if Jehen

Silverback had ordered him to do so or asked him. Maybe Perig was acting on his own, trying – like Manhata -to beg a better ending.

"I think it's time for us to leave," said Leweli quietly.

"Mother told me men were disgusting after they'd been drinking for a while," Ahl said in agreement.

Maybe they could say they needed to urinate, Ahl thought. That would get them to the forest. But no ruse was necessary. The pirate closest to them slumped over suddenly, his cup spilling from his hand. The next fellow over had already risen and was stumbling toward the Taig prisoners. Why, Ahl didn't know or want to know. She and Leweli rose together, stepping backward into the black forest shadow. No one called out.

Instead of entering the forest, they went along its edge, keeping in the shadow.

Hah! It was dark! But there were stars above them and lamps on the two anchored ships. When the beach ended, they clambered over rocks, going out on the promontory which formed one side of the harbor. Someone by the pirate's fire was screaming. Ahl didn't think it was from pain or fear.

Finally, when they were a good distance from the beach, Leweli said, "This will do."

The two women dove into the water and swam toward the Taig ship.

Remember that Sorg is marsh. No one grows up there without learning to swim. Ahl was excellent and Leweli even better. Side by side, they stroked through the cold still water, making no sound. On shore the pirates were shouting at one another. Had they discovered the missing women? Or were they quarreling, as

drunks will do?

When they reached the ship, Ahl grabbed the anchor chain. It made a noise. A moment later she saw a shape above her, leaning over the ship's side. Metal gleamed in starlight.

"It's Ahlin," she said quietly. "With Lewekh. We escaped."

Ropes came down. They climbed up.

"I hope you'll be able to do something about that baby," said the Taig captain.

"You found it," said Ahl.

"Hard to miss it, once it began to cry."

"I'll take care of Dapple," said Leweli and went toward their cabin.

Ahl stayed with the captain, telling him about the situation on shore.

"The actor tried to poison them," he said, leaning on the railing and looking at the figures that moved around the pirate's fire. "They don't look dead to me."

"He said it wasn't fatal. They are certainly intoxicated, though that might be due to halin."

"They don't seem to be looking for you, which suggests an unusual degree of intoxication. Either they haven't noticed that you're gone, or they no longer care." The Taig captain paused, evidently thinking. "I could wait and hope they lose consciousness. But I think it'd be better to move before the other pirates – the ones on board the pirate ship –notice something is wrong. Do you want to join the attack, or are you a woman like your friend?"

"I'm a woman," said Ahl.

"How about the other two?"

"Perig and Cholkwa? They're men. When I left, it seemed to me they were trying to seduce the two chief pirates."

"With luck, that will prove distracting. I'll leave some men here, in case the pirates on the ship decide to move." The captain made a noise that indicated irritation. "This would be much easier, if I didn't have to worry about enemies on two sides. Not to mention a ship with damaged rigging. As the proverb says, when luck turns bad, it turns bad."

"True enough," said Ahl. She went down to the cabin and found a knife. Leweli was nursing the baby, who was quiet now.

"The Taig men are going to attack," Ahl said.

"In which direction?" Leweli asked.

"Shore."

Leweli tilted her head, regarding the child. "A hard decision. I'm glad it's not one I have to make. But the party looked as if it might become ugly. Maybe it should be broken up."

Ahl went back on deck, carrying the knife. The Taig sailors were clustered on the landward side of their ship. After a moment Ahl realized they were lowering a boat. "Quietly," said the captain to them. "Act with care."

There was a soft splash as the boat hit water. The sailors climbed down and rowed away, their oars making almost no sound.

The remaining sailors posted themselves along the rail, some watching the shore, while others kept an eye on the pirate vessel. A man said, "They'd be crazy to bring the ship in at night with the tide low, but they could send a boat. The captain says you're a woman. Why are you traveling in disguise?"