Chase the Morning полностью

Stryge leered. ‘Where the dark powers meet, as I said. Such a stage of human folly suits the sabbats just as well. Or better.’ He seemed to cheer up, and stared again at the shapeless smear of mucus. ‘High up, maybe. Up hills. That’s the best I can do. Now tell this bitch to let me sleep!’

From near sea level the Chorazin looked ten times the size, looming over the longboats as we rowed nearer. It was hard to remember I’d scaled those bulging flanks only days before, and under fire. The two musketeers in our bows kept nervously sweeping their weapons along the high rail; Jyp didn’t stop them. We reached the side without being challenged. Boarding axes hooked quietly on to the blackened planks, and under the watchful eyes of the musketeers in Mall’s longboat the sailors swarmed up the wooden steps as easily as a broad staircase. As for me, I was so much dreading what I’d find that I was at the deck before I knew it, and swinging myself over the rail.

The deck boomed deafeningly under my feet; but there was no watch to be alerted. No sign of anyone, in fact. The high-pitched creak that made everyone jump was just a door swinging in the breeze. As we spread out to search the ship I made for the aft companionway, and with Jyp at my heels hissing caution I swung myself down onto the gloomy stairs.

He could have saved himself the trouble. The moment my head went below the hatchway I knew there was nobody there. I didn’t need to be a warlock or anything. I just knew. It may have been the stillness of the foul air, or something in the way the sounds echoed, our footfalls, the slap and swirl of the water in the bilges; but that ship felt empty. All the way down, deck to deck, it was the same; dark, stinking, still. I tried not to think what it must have been like for Clare, days of it down here among these sewer stenches. But if only she could still be there … Somehow. The lazarette door was locked. I looked at Jyp, shrugged, and blew the lock out with a shot. But as Jyp ripped it open my heart sank; the inner door stood ajar. I knew there’d be nobody inside, but I looked all the same. On the heap of rags meant for a bed lay something dark; I picked it up – and horrified myself by bursting into tears.

‘Her skirt?’ said Jyp. ‘Hey, look, it’s got torn, that’s why she couldn’t keep it on, it’d just fall down. Doesn’t mean she’s not still okay –’

I didn’t explain. It wasn’t just that. It was everything I’d left behind, my ordered office world, my carefully structured little normality, my scrupulously sexless intimacy – or was it our world, our intimacy? The sight of that once-trim skirt brought it all rushing back to me in a flood of emotion I couldn’t even recognize, let alone control. I wanted to hide my head and howl. But I had that much control left, at least; instead I think I said just about every swearword I knew. Even then I spoke four languages, so it must have been quite a lot. Then I rolled the skirt up and thrust it into my belt.

Jyp nodded in judicious agreement. ‘Let’s amscray. See if anyone else’s turned up anything yet.’

But, as we both expected, nobody had. The ship looked bare – not stripped, ready for sea, but bare. And all her boats were gone. That had one obvious answer. Jyp’s sharp order sent our boat’s crew streaming back over the side. ‘Might as well have your boys finish the search,’ he told Mall as we clambered onto the ladder. ‘Follow on in when you’re done. But signal the ship, will you, and have ’em cover us?’

‘Aye, at once!’ she said. ‘But have a care of yourselves!’

She wasted no time. As we pulled away from the shot-scarred flank the Defiance, drawn by her spring cables, was already swinging ponderously at her mooring. It was under the comforting cover of her guns that we rowed for the long crescent of beach. The curtain of jungle-like forest overhanging the dunes was unnerving. It could have hidden an army of snipers, and I expected it to erupt any moment. The moment our keel crunched in the pale sand we flung ourselves into the shallows and streamed up the beach, dropping down behind sandhills, rocks, palm roots, any cover that offered. But nothing came from beneath the ominous darkness of the trees except an amazing chatter of bird-calls.

Jyp lifted his head and peered anxiously up and down the beach. ‘Course, there’s no guaranteeing they did come ashore here; might’ve rowed round to the next bay, or the last. But Stryge, he – hey! See there!’

All I could make out was an odd fan-shaped patch in the dampish sand just above the tideline.

‘Yeah, that’s what I meant! They landed here, okay – then tried to brush out their tracks and keelmarks; nearly always leave a trace if you try that in a hurry. They’ll have stowed the boats somewhere near. Okay, boys!’ he snapped. ‘Up, and get looking! Their boats, their tracks, anything! Before we lose the light!’