Bone Lord 4, стр. 14

“I’ll pay you twice what this thing is worth, and that’s no exaggeration. I need your ship.”

“No, sir,” he said, still staring at the ground and seeming to grow increasingly nervous with every passing second. “Impossible, sir, impossible. I must bid you good day now, sir.”

Without another word, he turned and strode stiffly away, pausing only to whisper something to his sailors on his way back into the ship. They turned and glared in my direction and shook their heads. I walked over to the first sailor we’d spoken to, but he refused to answer any more questions and just ignored us, pretending we weren’t even there.

“What the hell is going on here?” I asked Rollar. “As soon as I mentioned buying a ship, everything changed.”

“It’s very strange, Lord Vance,” he said, “but let’s not let their odd behavior put us off. Come, let’s try that ship.” He pointed to another large merchant ship with blue and white sails, where some sailors were offloading crates.

The scenario that played out was almost identical; as soon as I mentioned buying the ship, the captain’s entire attitude changed, and it was as if he was suddenly afraid of me, like I carried the plague or leprosy. We tried a few more ships, and every single one had the same response.

“I wasn’t quite sure, but now I’m positive I smell rotting fish,” I said, exasperated. “Every sailor or captain acts like they’re looking at the Blood God himself the moment I mention buying a ship.”

“There has to be some explanation, Lord Vance,” Rollar said.

“Let’s try one more ship,” I suggested. “That one there.”

This one was only half the size of the smallest one we’d tried up to this point.

“I don’t think that will be suitable for us, Lord Vance,” Rollar said.

“That doesn’t matter. I just want to see how far down this goes. Who knows, it might be the whole damn harbor somehow conspiring not to sell boats to anyone—or just not to us.”

The ship’s captain was on deck, a scrawny, middle-aged fellow with a thick black mustache and a mop of curly black hair streaked with gray. He was reclining against the mast and swigging on a bottle of rum. Past glassy-eyed, he was my best chance at finding out why I’d been refused so many times. After all, swivelly eyes, swivelly tongue.

“Hail, good captain!” I called to him from the quay. “Can I have your ear for a moment? I’ve got gold, and lots of it, and I hope that’s enough for you to give us our share of your attention!”

The captain stood on unsteady legs, wobbled over to the edge of the ship, and looked down at me, smiling drunkenly.

“What can I ‘elp you with then, mister fancy-pants?” he asked, not in a mocking or unkind manner.

“I was wondering if you could share some information, is all,” I answered. “And I do pay quite handsomely for the right information.”

“Do you now?” he slurred. “Shoot then, my friend.”

“Why does everyone act like I’ve asked them to sacrifice their firstborn son whenever I mention buying a ship? Answer me truthfully, and I’ll pay you enough to find a hooker tonight who you can fuck without having to put a sack over her head or a blindfold over your own eyes!” I winked at him, and he laughed goodnaturedly in return.

“That sounds like a perfectly good offer to me, m’lord! Aye, the wenches in Lough Harbor are not too comely, are they? All right, I’ll tell ye. Throw me up a few gold pieces first, though, if you please.”

I tossed him three gold pieces, already enough for him to find a vaguely attractive whore later. He bit into each of the gold pieces and then nodded.

“It’s Church of Light business, m’lord,” he said. “The order has come from the bloody Seraphim ‘imself, I ‘eard. Nobody’s allowed to sell ships in any ‘arbor in the whole of Prand. If you’re caught selling a ship, not only do you lose your captain’s license permanently, but the fuckers will take off an arm, a leg, and an ear, and poke one a’ yer bloody eyes out too! You’re not going to find anyone—me included—willing to risk losing ‘alf his limbs and an eye an’ ear, no sir! Not for any amount a’ gold coin! And the Church—they’ve got spies all along the harbor front ‘ere, making sure that nobody breaks this command. That’s why nobody will talk to you, m’lord. By the Lord of Light, I’m risking a hundred lashes just by talking, I am! You’d best go now, before anyone sees us. I’m an honest bloke I am, don’t want no trouble.”

“What about passengers?” I asked. “Are ships allowed to carry passengers?”

“Only with the approval of Archmonk Brentwurst, the ol’ bastard.”

“Thanks.” I tossed the captain another gold coin before I walked over to Elyse, who was attempting to convince a sailor about the likelihood of catching venereal disease.

“As you can see, the Lord’s holy laws help prevent you from infection,” she said. “They aren’t a burden to obey, but for your own good.”

“Whatever you say,” the sailor replied with an eye-roll. “All I know is that my cock’s gettin’ wet tonight. Ven. . . ven. . . whatever the fuck I catch.”

“Sorry to interrupt your little indoctrination session,” I said to Elyse, “but the only way we can buy a ship is if we have official church papers. And we need to get them from some guy named Archmonk Brentwurst. Do you know him?”

Elyse scowled. “I do. There’s no way he’ll give you them. And if I asked on your behalf, he’d throw me out as soon as I saw him.”

“You two don’t get along?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid you’ll need to find another way.”

“Damn. Let’s meet with the others and see what we can come up with.”