A Crucible of Souls (Book One of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (8 page)

Caldan grimaced at her as they continued on to his bunk area, where she left him, stating she had work to do before, during and after they set sail. He drew the curtain open and lay down, having to shuffle his sacks around to find a comfortable spot.

He remembered the folded piece of parchment he had found on the floor and stuffed into a pocket in a rush. It felt rough in his hands, and a daub of candle wax held it closed, but no seal had been embedded into it. Breaking it open, he unfolded the parchment, recognizing Jemma’s flowing script.

Dear Caldan,

No one is allowed to see you, so I bribed the guard to deliver this letter, and I hope it reaches you. I know you would never hurt Marlon on purpose, and although his wounds are serious and distress me deeply, I do not blame you.

It was by chance we found out they were sending you away without an opportunity to say goodbye, and I needed you to know I didn’t think the worst of you for what happened. The physikers tell me Marlon will recover, but it will take time. He will need constant care, which I will have to provide. I think I will have to stop attending lessons, which pains me greatly, but I am unable to do anything regarding the situation. Family must come first. My parents would want me to look after Marlon to the exclusion of all else.

They say you will not be allowed back on the island, and for that I am sorry. I know this will hit you hard, harder than anyone else who studies here. This place has been your life, and it is hard to leave things that are precious to us, but life throws up challenges indiscriminately, and it is for us to overcome them.

…he could see in her writing how much she was hurting. The lessons and life at the monastery, which allowed her freedom, had been taken away. And it was his fault…

But I am rambling, and I am sure you have your own troubles to occupy your mind. I will miss your friendship and your warmth.

With fond memories, Jemma

Caldan folded the parchment with slow reverent movements and slipped it back into his pocket. He stared at the flimsy curtain separating him from the room, wondering whether Jemma would ever forgive him for ruining her freedom, despite what she had written.

The swaying back and forth of the ship relaxed him, though only a small swell in the harbor. He was sure the two day trip would be pleasant, if his stomach remained settled.

The reality of his situation kept intruding on his thoughts, and he wondered how much he could stand before his mind couldn’t handle it anymore. The life he knew was gone as surely and as quickly as smoke blown away in the wind.

He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them hard with his palms. Unfair, was the word that came to his mind. But… the truth was he had been more fortunate than many others. More than he had any right to expect. Perhaps this new part of his life would change him, the experience give him a greater understanding of the world, a new perspective.

He took a few deep breaths of the musty ship air and found he couldn’t lie still. Swinging out of the bunk, he headed up to see the ship sail in the dawn.

He emerged on the deck to see crew members in a flurry of activity. Finding a corner out of everyone’s way, he leaned against the gunwale. The cool, salty, fresh sea breeze ruffled his hair, giving relief after the fusty air below.

Captain Charlotte and Miranda stood by the wheel. Both were quiet and peered out into the harbor.

“
We must profit by this wind,
”
he heard the captain say.
“
Is all in readiness?
”

“
Yes, ma’am,
”
Miranda replied.

“
Then be so good as to tell me why Rigger Darcy is swaying back and forth as if three sheets to the wind.
”

“
Bloody ancestors,
”
cursed Miranda.
“
Rigger Darcy, you drunken bastard,
”
she yelled, red-faced, surprising Caldan with her swearing.
“
Get your sorry ass back below decks right now! Jonas, get up there and replace him.
”

“
Right you are, ma’am,
”
confirmed another sailor as he passed a swaying Darcy on his way to the mast.

Miranda looked like she was about to burst, lips pursed tightly and nostrils flaring.

“
Sorry, Captain. I should have checked on Darcy. We know what he is like with a bit of shore leave.
”

“
Yes, you should have. Never mind. What’s done is done. Pay better attention next time.
”

Miranda gave a quick embarrassed nod.

“
I will ask again. Is all in readiness?
”

Miranda paused before replying, her gaze taking in the deck, the masts, sails and crew members, and stopping on Caldan for a second before moving on. Caldan held his breath, sure she was going to send him below while they left, but to his surprise she didn’t.

“
Yes, ma’am. All is ready.
”

“
Good, then we will make sail.
”
Captain Charlotte raised her voice to carry across the ship.
“
Make sail. All hands to make sail.
”

There was a great deal of shouting and stomping of feet from the crew members as they hurried to their places.

“
Silence, please,
”
yelled the captain.

All of the crew of the
Loretta
stood still, poised in dead silence. The ship lay in the harbor, gently rocking to and fro in the morning swell, waves lapping at the side.

Charlotte stood still as well, judging the wind. She paused for a few moments.

“
Away aloft,
”
she cried. Her call was repeated up and down the ship, and immediately the shrouds were covered in men and women, racing upwards as nimble and at home as monkeys in trees.

As Charlotte unleashed a slew of orders, the crew on the yards untied the lines furling the sails, and sheets of canvas dropped with a whoosh. Ropes were sheeted home and secured.

The
Loretta
heeled over slightly as a push from the wind filled her sails. Another push, then she inched forward until the motion became a steady drive. She was under way, gathering speed gradually as she moved away from the docks. Her speed increased, the noise of her slicing through the water gaining in strength as she left her berth behind.

Caldan looked back at the docks, his gaze traveling up into the city and finally coming to rest on the monastery. He turned his head to the open sea breeze to hide the expression on his face, his eyes burning as he remembered the hurt he had caused so many people. Salty spray from the ship’s passage through the water soaked his face, erasing any sign of the tears that fell.

He lost track of time as he stood at the gunwale staring out at the water, pointedly not looking back at the island dwindling into the distance. Any thoughts, he pushed aside in an effort to ease the pain he felt.

The sun had risen into a cloudless sky and beat down upon the deck. His eyes hurt from the glare off the water. To give his eyes a rest and to cool down, he headed back to his bunk, passing crew members on the way, who ignored him, busy with their own tasks.

Beyond finding cheap accommodation and work, he had no thoughts on what he would do. He was sure his situation wouldn’t become dire since he had gained a lot of skills and knowledge at the monastery, but better to be safe and find some paid work early than leave it too late.

Well, no point worrying until he made it to Anasoma and decided whether it was somewhere he wanted to stay.

Shaking himself from his reverie, he upended both sacks, spilling his belongings onto the bunk. A meager collection of possessions to mark his life.

He slumped back, overcome with weariness. Too much had happened in a short space of time, and he was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. He rubbed his aching eyes. He needed rest and time to think, to come to grips with all that had happened, but he doubted he would have much time after landing in Anasoma. This short trip at sea might be good fortune in disguise and give him a chance to gather his thoughts.

He spent the next few hours lying there, eyes closed, and rocking gently from side to side with the ship. He wasn’t feeling ill, which surprised him, but when a crewman came to alert him that the midday meal was ready, he begged off. He was hungry but in no mood to make small talk with strangers, who would have all sorts of questions.

He drifted off, and before he knew it he was being shaken awake. He brushed away the offending hand and sat up, thoughts groggy. Miranda stood there, hands crossed over her chest, and stared at him with a disapproving look on her face.

“
Heard you haven’t eaten anything all day,
”
she remarked.

“
Eh?
”
he replied, still half asleep.
“
What’s it to you?
”

“
We want to make sure all our passengers are well. Wouldn’t get any repeat business if we didn’t check in on them now and again.
”
She rubbed one arm through her shirt and took a step back.
“
Are you sick?
”

“
No. Not at all. I needed some rest, and I’m not hungry.
”
His stomach chose that moment to let out a large rumble, belying his words. He grinned sheepishly.
“
I guess I’ve been overruled.
”

Miranda smiled back.
“
Come on. We can rustle you up something to eat. You’ve been down here all day, and the sun is setting. I’m not surprised you’re hungry.
”

Caldan followed her through the ship to the galley. She rummaged around and made up a wooden plate for him with a heel of coarse-grained bread, a withered apple and a few slices of cold, charred meat of some kind. The cook’s treatment when preparing the meat hadn’t left many clues as to what type of animal it had come from, but Caldan wasn’t fussy. His stomach grumbled again as he took the plate from Miranda and she motioned for him to follow.

“
Wait,
”
he said.
“
Could I have a bit more, please?
”

She raised an eyebrow at him and motioned him to help himself.
“
Sure. Just leave some for the rest of us.
”

He grabbed another apple and few slices of meat, plus a skin of water.
“
That should be enough. Let’s go.
”

She looked at his heaped plate and shrugged.

On deck she led him to a sheltered corner and gestured for him to start eating. She leaned her elbows on the gunwale and looked out to where the sun had set.

“
Oh bother, we missed the sunset.
”

To Caldan, her words were tinged with irony, and he glanced at her. Surely she saw the sunset every day? Caldan stopped himself staring before she caught him and turned his attention to his food. She looked athletic under her rough sailor’s clothes.

“
Thank you,
”
he said.
“
For the food, I mean.
”
He stuffed a slice of the meat in his mouth and chewed ravenously. Was it beef? It could have been goat, but he couldn’t tell.
“
I’m always thankful for food,
”
he mumbled around his mouthful.
“
When I was young I never had enough.
”

At his words, Miranda gave him a sharp look, then distress crossed her face, and she looked away out to sea. Caldan realized he’d hit a nerve, that his mention of hunger had stirred an unwelcome memory in her.

“
I know what that’s like,
”
she said in a subdued voice.
“
And you’re welcome to eat as much as you want, as long as the crew don’t start complaining.
”