The Two of Swords: Part 15 Read Online Free

that even though it’s a very big sea, ships tend to go along these invisible roads, and it’s something to do with prevailing winds and stuff like that. I’m assuming that explains
them
.”
    He dipped his head slightly towards the stern. Orderic, who knew him well, didn’t look round, just moved his eyes and then moved them back. “Four sails.”
    “Is it four now? I only counted three.”
    “My eyesight’s better than yours.”
    “Maybe.” Genseric yawned. “I’m assuming,” he said, “that they’re four ordinary, harmless merchant ships following a shipping lane which happens to be the one we’re using. That’s a perfectly logical explanation, isn’t it?”
    “Yes.”
    “And we’ve got, what, sixty-five marines on board, and this is a pretty fast ship, apparently. It’s not like we’ve got anything to worry about.”
    Orderic massaged his forehead with his fingertips. “No luck finding out where we’re going, I suppose.”
    “No, but I haven’t tried violence yet.”
    They both turned slowly, so that they were facing the ship’s launch. “Apparently,” Orderic said, “the correct name for it’s a catboat.”
    “Is that right?”
    “Because it’s got just the one mast, right at the back. Sorry, astern. Why that makes it a catboat I don’t know, but it does.”
    “How many will it carry?”
    “Depends on who you ask,” Orderic replied. “The consensus would seem to be, somewhere between six and ten.”
    “I don’t see how we could manage with less than seven,” Genseric said, after a pause for thought. “You, me, her. Someone to steer the boat, someone to do whatever it is you do with the sails. And two marines, to keep the sailors in order. Seven. Plus food and water for at least six days.”
    “Ten,” Orderic said. “I have this recurring nightmare where I’m in a small boat in the middle of the sea, and there’s no food or water. Let’s be on the safe side.”
    “We must be nearly there by now, surely,” Genseric said angrily. “We’ve been on this horrible ship for days, and we haven’t had storms or anything to blow us off course. And for all I know, they’re sending out escorts to bring us in safe.”
    “You’d have thought so.”
    Genseric straightened up. “I think I’ll go and make some empty threats,” he said. “You find out which sailors we should take, and choose two marines.”
    “And supplies for ten days?”
    “Six,” Genseric said. “Save weight, go faster. We’re not sailing round the world, for crying out loud.”
    The captain had his orders. He was answerable to his superiors, according to the chain of command, in which Genseric didn’t feature. Genseric and his damned marines were simply passengers, nothing more. The orders explicitly stated that their destination was not to be divulged to any unauthorised person. Genseric was not authorised. Therefore—
    “These orders,” Genseric smiled. “In writing, presumably.”
    “Of course.”
    He nodded over the captain’s head. “Sergeant, search the captain’s cabin. Bring me any paper with writing on it.”
    He couldn’t do that, it was outrageous. It was mutiny. Genseric had no authority—
    “No,” Genseric said. “But I have got sixty-five obedient marines.”
    “All right.” The captain got up and walked to the rail. “I’ll tell you. But—”
    Something in his voice. Not just fury and outraged sensibilities. Fear? “No, don’t bother,” Genseric said, resting his hand on the captain’s shoulder just firmly enough to push him back into his seat. “Sergeant, carry on.”
    The search was commendably quick and thorough. It produced the captain’s document case, containing his charts and recent correspondence, including the written orders. Genseric read them with interest, while two marines held the captain’s arms.
    “Full cooperation with the officer commanding,” he read out, “keep him fully informed at all times.” He lowered the paper. “Not what you said.