The Gathering Storm (Crown of Stars 5)

“Have you seen God, Marcus?”

“God I must take on faith, but I would rather see Them with my own eyes, to be certain.”

Meriam smiled in her sharp way. “So may we all hope to do when we die, but not while living. Do not let the others hear you speak so heretically. Men have been burned for less.”

“You can be sure that I do not intend to be one of them.”

Summer had come and gone; the autumn equinox had passed, and now the course of days uncoiled inexorably toward the winter solstice. They had escaped Sordaia somewhat after midsummer and sailed south along the shore of the Heretic’s Sea to the harbor of fabled Arethousa. Zacharias had not been allowed to disembark, but he had stood for two days at the railing and stared in wonder at the great city on its hills while the ship-master had supervised the unloading of timber, furs, and wheat from Sordaia’s market and taken up wine, cloth, and iron knives.

In Arethousa, Wolfhere and Marcus had by unknown means received a desperate message that sent them southeast rather than west along the Dalmiakan coast toward Aosta. A strong wind called the halhim had delayed them along the Aeolian coast of the Middle Sea, forcing them to shelter for days at a time among its many pleasant islands until they had fetched up at an island the sailors called Tiriana, to rescue Meriam and her granddaughter.

That Meriam was a mathematicus needed never to be said aloud. Marcus informed the ship-master that they would detour to the port of Qahirah before returning to Aosta. Offered a bonus, the man did not demur. Perhaps, in truth, he was wise enough to see he had no choice in the matter. In the end, he served the skopos, who was rich and powerful enough to command him despite the physical distance between his ship and her throne. What mattered the intention in his heart as long as he did what he was told?

“Now,” said Marcus, “we will continue with the spheres. Earth lies at the center of the universe….”

Bit by bit, the architecture of the cosmos took shape before Zacharias, yet at times he wondered if it really matched that awesome vision he had seen years ago in the palace of coils. Remembering it, he still trembled, but he did not speak of the vision to Marcus, who cared nothing for the experience of others. Marcus knew what he knew, and that was enough for him.

Elene never joined them. She took her lessons, if she had any, privately with her grandmother. Otherwise, she stayed in her cabin or stood on deck, staring north and east toward the lands she had left behind. Often she had tears on her cheeks, but she never cried out loud.

“Is she always this sullen?” Zacharias asked Wolfhere one afternoon as he watched the sailors changing tack as the wind shifted.

“Have you heard her speak a cross word to any soul on this ship?” Wolfhere spent as much time as Elene staring out to sea, but not in any fixed direction. Zacharias was as likely to find him staring south as north, east as west.

“I’ve not heard her speak more than ten words altogether.”

“Well,” said Wolfhere, as if that settled the matter.

But it did not, for Zacharias wondered how any soul could not rejoice in the company of such learned mathematici. Yet when he asked Marcus the same question as he settled down for his next lesson, he got a very different answer.

“Ten words? Why should the daughter of a duke and the granddaughter of a queen speak even one word to you, Zacharias? You are of no account to an illustrious noblewoman born into such a distinguished lineage.”

“Of course you are right, Brother Marcus. But as she is heir to a duke, and granddaughter to a queen on her mother’s side, I am amazed that she could be torn from such a high seat and thrown like a common wanderer onto such a path as this one.”

“There is no path of greater consequence than the one we follow. Leave off these questions and attend.” Marcus stepped out from under the awning, shading his eyes as he gazed toward the cliffs, then shook his head impatiently and sat down again in the shade.

Elene appeared at the stern and placed her hands on the railing as she stared toward the distant land. After a moment Wolfhere joined her, and bent his head to listen. Jealous, Zacharias wondered what they spoke about.

“Pay attention, Zacharias!”

He started and shifted his gaze to the cleric.

Marcus had the most caustic smile imaginable, a curious way of turning up his lips and narrowing his eyes that made Zacharias squirm. “Are you done?” He did not wait for an answer. “To repeat. The ecliptic and the motion of the moon. Because the moon’s path wobbles at an incline to the ecliptic, the moon crosses south to north and north to south at regular intervals. The points on the ecliptic where it crosses are called the ascending node and the descending node, or caput draconis and cauda draconis—that is, the head and the tail of the dragon.”

“Sail!” cried Wolfhere.

The lookout echoed the cry.

Sailors rushed to the railing. Elene leaned out until she seemed likely to pitch overboard, and her face was alight, as though she thought her father was coming for her at last. “Pirates!” she cried eagerly.

A galley powered by oars cut through the water. There wasn’t enough wind to save them, and although they could row, too, their sturdy cog could not hope to outrun a swift warship.

“It’s a Jinna ship!” shouted Wolfhere. “See the banner! They’ll take as slaves those they don’t kill”

Zacharias rose but could barely keep his feet because his legs shook so much. He broke out in a sweat. The captain rushed up to Marcus and commenced gesticulating and shouting. Marcus merely looked annoyed as at an exasperating child who will not cease interrupting although he’s been told to sit still and keep quiet.

“Enough!” he said, and the captain hushed. “Bring Sister Meriam,” he added, and a servant went to her cabin to rouse her from her afternoon nap. “Sit, Zacharias! You’re in my way.”

Zacharias’ rump hit the deck hard; he trembled all over. Sailors grabbed spears and poles and readied their knives. Wolfhere did not move, not even to touch the hilt of his sword. He stared so fixedly at the approaching ship that Zacharias wondered if he had been ensorcelled. Marcus tapped his feet on the decking, a pit-pit-pat, pit-pit-pat rhythm that made the father want to scream.