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Like most pirates Blade had seen, the pirates of Nongai had given themselves a
dramatic and not particularly accurate name.
The man seemed to frown and hesitate, then shouted back, "What is that
message?"
"We would bear it privately to the captains and to the Seven Brothers." The
seven senior captains of the pirates formed an unofficial but effective ruling
council, with a dramatic name of its own.
There was silence in the other boat. Prince Durouman fidgeted nervously. The
offer of alliance was not something to be shouted out across thirty yards of
water, where everyone might hear it. On the other hand, being too closemouthed
might in the next minute send the battle signals soaring up to the mastheads
of the four galleys. Blade could only hope he'd struck the right balance.
The silence went on for what seemed like half an hour, but could not have been
more than a couple of minutes. Then the man gestured to someone in the stern
of the fishing boat. Two men stood up, waving a green flag on the end of a
long pole. Blade saw the oars of the four galleys begin to move. Then the
red-clad pirate hailed them again.
"We judge it fit that you come before the Seven Brothers, for you have come to
us under a truce flag.
Remain where you are. Our four galleys will form a square around you. You will
be given a course to follow. Remain within that square and on that course, or
it shall be your death."
The man sat down and four sailors leaped into action. The boat's sail filled
again and she came about, heading away from Kukon. Beyond the boat, the
galleys were now moving steadily closer.
Blade let out breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "So far so good. They
seem to be willing to believe we've got a message and willing to let us bring
it before their ruling council." He turned and hailed
Dzhai, who was standing on the foc'sle. "Captain Dzhai! Call all rowers to
their benches and prepare to get underway."
For two days Kukon and her escorts moved west against a fluky wind that kept
the rowers in all five ships at the oars most of the time.
On the third morning the five galleys entered a broad river mouth where some
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thirty black-hulled galleys were already anchored. On the shore rose a roughly
built log house, with the flag of the Seven
Brothers-seven gold rays on a green field-floating above it.
Beyond the house in one direction were the rough lean-tos and huts of the
mainland tribesmen. In the other direction was a sprawling mass of tents,
tethered horses, and cooking fires sending up spirals of smoke. The Steppemen
had indeed come in force. Prince Durouman counted the pirate galleys and
frowned.
"Is that all they have left after the battle against Sukar's squadron? If they
are so weak, can they be of any use to us? If-"
"I doubt that is all their strength," said Blade. This was the first time he'd
interrupted Prince Durouman, and he realized this might give offense. Yet the
prince's constant worrying out loud was beginning to get on Blade's nerves.
The prince was brave and daring and intelligent, but he also seemed
exceedingly high-strung. Perhaps too high-strung to make an effective leader.
Blade counted the tents and horses in the camp of the Steppemen. That led to
another unpleasant thought. The Steppemen had come with at least three
thousand men, perhaps four thousand. That was not just an embassy. That was an
army-an army that could start a war or launch an invasion on a moment's
notice.
Blade did not in the least like having so many armed warriors of a people he
was about to turn into enemies so close at hand. The more he thought about it,
the less he liked it. He also realized that there was nothing he could do
about it, except perhaps not mention it to Prince Durouman. The man was
already nervous enough.
Those aboard Kukon had time to eat breakfast before anything happened. Then a
flat-bottomed barge came out from shore toward the galley. In the stern sat
the same man in the red tunic who had spoken to them three days ago. He now
wore a leather cuirass and a high-crested steel helmet and carried a short,
curved sword. The other men in the boat were also armed and armored.
"They don't seem to trust us," said Prince Durouman. "Or perhaps it's the
Steppemen they don't trust.
With three thousand of them two miles away, I wouldn't sleep easily more than
a foot from my sword."
So Prince Durouman had made his own count of the Steppemen-yet did not seem so
worried that he was unable to make a light-hearted remark about it. That was
good. The better the prince kept his head, the better would be the impression
he made on the Seven Brothers.
The barge bumped alongside. The man scrambled forward from the stern and
sprang lightly up Kukon's side onto the foc'sle. Blade, Prince Durouman, and
Dzhai met him there, all dressed in their best clothes, weapons, and armor.
"Greetings," said the man. "I am Emass, Speaker for the Seven Brothers."
"Greetings, Emass," said Blade. He introduced the other two men. Wine was
brought, and all four men solemnly drank a cup and ate bread and salt fish.
"It is our wish to bring our message before the Seven Brothers," said Blade
when they'd finished. "Is it the wish of the Seven Brothers to hear us?"
"It is," said Emass. "It is also their wish that I bring you before them now."
Blade and Prince Durouman exchanged looks, then both nodded in unison. Blade
turned to Dzhai.
"Captain Dzhai, Kukon is in your charge. Let nothing happen that is unworthy
of all she has done before."
There was no harm in reminding the pirates that this galley and these same men
had fought furiously against them before and could do so again if necessary.
It might help the pirates keep their tempers enough to remember their honor
and the truce.
Dzhai nodded and raised his good arm in a salute. "It shall be done, Prince
Blade."
Blade and Durouman turned and followed Emass down into the barge.
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