Shadows Beyond

Chapter 9

The day was long, slow and lazy. The brothers dozed in turns, one keeping watch while the other napped. The sun went down and, by the light of a gloomy lantern, they ate a thin stew and dried biscuits, finishing off with some water. They still felt hungry.

Zeff took the first watch, leaving Emtani and Tagg to sleep. He sat on the highest bales of spilk so he could see part of the deck below. Occasionally, a boatman walked by, slowly carrying out his duties. They never looked up at Zeff, but acted as if the Syndi-Karmen had not picked up any passengers. Zeff had seen four, maybe five men on board, including the pilot. They were all rough and dirty.

A lamp, fastened on the support above Zeff’s head, cast a feeble light. He glanced across at Tagg and Emtani who lay in different dips between the bales, looking nothing like newly-weds. Zeff knew he should say something, but it was easier to leave them be. He felt there would be enough battles to fight with Emtani once they reached the City and had no stomach to begin tonight.

Lying asleep, Tagg no longer looked much like the boy Zeff had vowed to protect several years before when they had first been left parentless. These days, Zeff realised with pride, Tagg was pretty much able to take care of himself. Perhaps Zeff’s job was over, or perhaps it would never be over. He would always be the older brother, always programmed to protect the younger.

He glanced at Emtani. With Nye gone, she had no one to look after for her and he wondered if that role should pass to him. He hoped not. He had enough to do. But she looked so young lying asleep and he realised that someone should look out for her, just not him or Tagg. Her fair hair had escaped the chaotic plait that had failed to restrain it during the day, and was wildly strewn across the black bales. She looked her best when asleep and he wondered why. Perhaps it was because she was not arguing with him.

Leaning back against one of the boat girders, he wondered how ZefShad was healing. Pulling up his good leg, he rested an arm on his knee and rubbed the back of his neck, smiling at the way he and Tagg had haggled down the price of their passage. It was an old routine that had worked before. But when he had seen the pilot ogling Emtani he had wondered, low though the fare was, if it had come at too high a price.

A movement caught his eye. The pilot was climbing up. Zeff tensed, ready for anything, but the pilot seemed relaxed. ‘Cold night,’ Zeff said companionably.

‘There’s better and there’s warse,’ the pilot drawled noncommittally, revealing a dark brown gob of chewing meddick in his cheek. ‘Want some meddick?’

Zeff shook his head.

‘It’s good stuff,’ the pilot said, turning and spitting a quantity of slimy brown juice from his mouth into the water. It landed with a plop. ‘You won’t find finer.’

‘Kind offer,’ Zeff said, knowing that a man like the pilot would never offer free meddick just to be hospitable, ‘but it’s not one of my vices.’

The pilot shook his head sadly. ‘Don’t know whart you’re missin’.’

Zeff nodded affably, but kept alert in case the pilot’s conversation was some kind of diversion. He hoped Tagg was awake, but the light snoring coming from that direction suggested otherwise.

‘Name’s, Sydd,’ the pilot said, offering his hand. Grime had gathered in the chapped skin and around the nails.

Zeff shook it firmly. ‘Zeff,’ he replied, keeping to first names like the pilot.

Sydd chewed for a while and then said, ‘Young lass with yer?’

Zeff nodded. ‘My brother’s wife.’

‘AAah, that would be it, then,’ Sydd said leaning forward and expertly drilling another glob of slimy brown juice from his mouth into the river. ‘Reckon a lass like that takes handlin’.’