Adversaries Together (33 page)

On land, Goshen was always intrigued by
moonlight but out here on the great Novostos, it seemed to be
brighter, more ordinary yet more fantastic. He had let his mind
wander during the trip; the repetition of rowing had quickly given
him a sure routine to lose himself in. The water felt hard to
Goshen always resistant even though the sea was calm and had been
so for their entire sojourn.

If he was honest with himself, the paddling
was welcome. He was starting to feel his strength returning, it
felt like it had been ages since he had trained. Goshen didn’t even
want to imagine how sloppy of a fighter he’d be right now.
Hopefully, when they came ashore, he’d be able to get a blade; even
a rod would work, and start drilling again. He still wasn’t sure if
Jena would allow that though, she seemed quite reluctant to put any
weapon in Goshen’s hands.

She sat at the stern, her eyes as black as
the sea around her. Just as calm as well, but you got the sense
that at any moment she could uncoil to unleash an astonishing fury.
She held the sail lines constantly shifting them from side to side
to catch the wind but also to keep her on the invisible path she
seemed to keep in her mind. Goshen hadn’t really spoken to her
since she had disciplined him on the beach, more because it was
clear she had no time for him than because his pride was wounded.
Although, he certainly felt the continued sting of having been so
easily manhandled by her.

“
How much farther do you
suspect?” he asked, the sound of his voice seeming strange as it
broke the quiet. It didn’t startle Jena but her body tighten and it
seemed like she just remembered that he was there.

“
You two are doing well and
we’ve had a good wind.” Jena said.

“
Not much of answer, that.”
Goshen tried to sound good-natured.

“
Don’t ask if you can’t
accept the answer.” She turned back to staring out into the dark
water.

“
That implies I already
know the answer,” Goshen persisted, “And I make it a point of only
asking questions about things I don’t know.”

“
You ask a lot of
questions.” Jena said deadpan.

Goshen laughed, “True, true. You rangers have
to know a little bit about everything to survive. I’m just a
soldier; others do the thinking for me.”

“
Probably the truest thing
I’ve yet heard from you.”

“
I doubt that.”

“
You really haven’t said
much that matters.”

Goshen shrugged, “I have been nearly dead for
most of our time together.”

Jena snorted, “Fair enough.”

They let the quiet fall between them again.
The water, the puff of the sail, and the ache of the boat’s wood
were the only sounds. Finally, Jena tied her lines to either side
of her, stretched, and leaned back in the boat as much as she
could.

“
I hate boats.” She
said.

“
Boats or sea
travel.”

“
Yes.”

“
I can’t say I’m having a
good experience with them myself.”

“
She might be dead when we
get there you know.”

Goshen nodded, “She may be, may be long dead.
It’s been a horrid few weeks. And it seems like everything that can
go wrong has gone wrong.”

“
I wouldn’t say that but
yeah, this has been one giant axe-wound of a campaign. I’m going
beat Roth senseless when I see him.”

“
You think he’s still
alive?”

Jena nodded and said without hesitation, “If
I’m alive, he’s alive.”

“
And this place in the
Siracenes, he’s just waiting for us there?”

“
Why wouldn’t he
be?”

“
Why would he
be?”

“
You can’t answer a
question with a question.” Jena scoffed.

Again, Goshen smiled and laughed a little,
“You know the man well. I should like to know more.”

“
Because he saved your
lives.”

“
Well, yes and no. He saved
my life but fairly soon after that it was endangered
again.”

“
That’s more on you being
someone some folks want dead.” Jena pulled a small satchel up from
under her seat plank, a drawstring bag she pulled it loose and went
digging inside it.

“
Valid. But it’s odd that
he should’ve gotten involved in the first place. He had no idea who
we were, had no idea that we were even worth saving.”

Jena pulled out a wedge of cheese and set the
bag back down, she peeled away the cloth around it and cut off a
bit with a tiny pocketknife. She was chewing, pointing the knife at
Goshen about to make a point, “Athingani don’t think that way.”

Goshen pulled his head back slightly in
surprise, “He’s a gammon? Light be damned, I hadn’t even
entertained that notion.”

Jena laughed a bit, “You’re pretty mouthy for
a paladin.”

“
Well,” Goshen pulled back
harder on the oars, “I’m not a paladin anymore.”

“
You’ll always be a
paladin. You can’t just switch that off because your lords decide
not to call you it any longer.” Jena was grim but she held out the
cheese to him. Goshen lifted the oars and pulled them in across his
lap; he took the cheese, broke off a section, and handed it back to
her. The gruel had weakened him, it had sickened him, and for the
first few days with Declan, he had recoiled at the thought of food.
But of late his appetite had returned and, he speculated, he
appreciation for the wonderful tastes of even the simplest things.
He chewed slowly and let the cheese’s creamy flavor cover his
tongue. He missed eating, and when he got back to Sulecin, he would
have such a feast…

“
I’ve got nowhere to go
now.” He said, the realization wasn’t new but the reality of it was
being beaten into him every moment he allowed his mind not to be
occupied.

Jena nodded, “There’s always somewhere to
go.”

“
Spoken like a true free
ranger.” Goshen tried to lighten his tone.

“
I was raised near Calla,”
Jena’s tone was casual now and Goshen realized she was talking to
him as a peer, “My mother died birthing me, father took me to Far
Port and raised me like a son.”

“
Thought you hated the
sea.”

“
And that’s why. Making a
living by sea…it’s just vile.” Jena shook her head, “The stench,
you’re always damp and never warm, you’re always just barely
hanging on and at a whim the sea destroys all you’ve done. I don’t
like it, I don’t trust it.”

“
Your father was a
mariner?”

“
A whaler at first, then a
crabber, then he shattered his leg.”

“
Then you became the
mariner.”

“
For a bit,” Jena seemed
lost in thought for a moment, “I loved that old man but I wasn’t a
salt, I needed to be in the woods. He knew that but he had no idea
how to be. Always just figured it was something I’d gotten from my
mother’s half.”

“
Only boats I’ve known have
been river barges, ferries. This here,” Goshen gestured around him,
“Is the closest thing I’ve ever come to be a sailor.”

Jena laughed, “You are not a sailor, you’re
strong so you might make for a steady rowhand but that’s all you’ll
ever be.”

“
At least now I know I have
that option,” Goshen smiled, “A life spent in the dark below decks
churning the sea from Dystos to Wick.”

“
Honest work but I doubt
you have the mindset for that kinda thing.”

“
True. Maybe once we get to
the Siracenes I’ll ask this Roth for some advice, learn a few
tricks, and haunt a dead village until I die. Grow swedes and
turnips till I die, maybe raise peafowl and sell the feathers till
I die.” Goshen laughed to himself.

“
Again, that’s honest
work.” Jena shook her head. “Good luck with that.”

“
What would you have me
do?” Goshen wiped his hands on his thighs and took up the oars
again.

“
You’re no poet that’s for
sure.” She shrugged, “You’re a soldier, no reason to shy away from
it.”

“
I fight for the Light; I
don’t kill for pleasure or coin.” Goshen surprised himself with how
repulsed he was at the idea.

“
No one kills for
pleasure…except your kind.”

“
The Light never
murders.”

“
Your indoctrination is
farcical.”

“
What are you a
heathener?”

Jena shook her head, “That’s just what you
call anyone who doesn’t want to buy into your cult.”

“
The Light is the world,
Jena, it covers all things.”

“
I don’t need to hear your
scripture, you’ll never convert me,” Jena raised a hand gesturing
Goshen to cool down, “Light is the anomaly, Goshen.”

Goshen squinted and shook his head, “I don’t
even know what that means.”

“
Exactly.” Jena sighed, and
untied her lines. The two didn’t speak for nearly an hour when
Declan suddenly bolted upright.

“
Damn it,” he said glaring
at Goshen, “How long have I been out?”

“
Since you went to sleep.”
Goshen smirked.

Declan threw off the tarp and climbed over
Goshen to the plank seat behind him. He stretched and picked up the
oars, “You should’ve woken me.”

“
I was in a
groove.”

Declan dropped his oar in and fell into pace
with Goshen almost immediately, “So how much longer now?”

“
We’ll likely make shore
just after midday.” Jena said plainly.

“
Why does he warrant a
straight answer?” Goshen asked with mock complaint.

Jena smiled and winked, “Heatheners are
hassled enough.”

“
Take what you can get,
mate,” Declan whispered.

“
I think I shall.” Goshen
pulled his oar in, “You alright to man this alone?”

“
Sleep, I’ll wake ya when
the sun is high.”

Goshen slide down to the hull and pulled the
canvas tarp over himself. He was damp and he was cold, he could
smell himself, and everything else reeked of rot and brine. Jena
was entirely correct, but his body was too tired to let it worry
him. He fell asleep almost immediately and dreamt of nothing.

He woke with Declan kicking him through the
tarp, barking at him to rise. Goshen pulled back the canvas and
felt the warmth of the sun on his face. He barely had a moment to
savor it before he felt Declan and Jena stepping over him going in
opposite directions.

He sat up, “Have we arrived?”

“
Yeah, well, sort of,”
Declan had pulled in his oar and was frantically tying his pack,
“Looks like we’re gonna get blowed up.” He gestured passed the
bow.

Goshen looked and saw a proper ship, a
three-mast frigate rising high off the water. It wasn’t a
Silvincian or Adrenine ship, maybe one of the Merchant Fleet’s, he
thought. As he stood to get a better look, he saw some side panels
open up and black iron poke out.

“
Shit.” He
mumbled.

“
We’re already there.”
Declan threw Goshen’s pack at him. Jena had taken down the sails
and was strapping her own satchel to her back.

“
Bind it to you tight,
tighter than you’ve ever tied it. Make it uncomfortable.” Declan
told him.

“
We’re not going to try to
out maneuver them?” he asked.

Jena looked at him as if he was an idiot,
“This is a fucking trimaran. That’s,” she pointed to the ship, “a
damn corsair frigate. We lose.”

“
So we just wait until they
blas…” A shot rang out from the frigate and not a moment later a
huge splash not fifteen spans from them rose the boat up and nearly
threw Goshen off.

“
We are leaving.” Jena
said.

“
Leaving? How?”

“
You know how to swim,
right?” Declan asked suddenly quite concerned.

“
Fuck.” Goshen
realized.

“
Yeah, that’s about right.”
Declan nodded.

“
We’re not that far out
from shore, we can get there if we each take a different
direction.” Jena was rushed, “Take off your damn boots.” She yelled
at Goshen.

“
I’ll go left, you go
right,” Declan was telling him, “She’s going right towards it I
reckon.” Goshen turned in time to see Jena dive into the
sea.

“
Try to stay deep, only
come up for air when you have to and don’t stop swimming until
you’re standing on sand.”

“
But how will…” Declan
shoved him overboard. When Goshen came to the surface it was just
in time to see Declan fly off the boat as it blew apart. He turned
away and dove under the surface. He was heavy and it felt like he
was fighting against some cold current. When he came up for air, he
looked around trying to get his bearings. The frigate was still in
front of him but he was closer now, he treaded water and saw that a
tender was being manned on the side of the ship. Goshen didn’t
hesitate; he dove under again and swam as hard as he could. He
stayed under longer, almost to the point of passing out. When he
came back up, he was just passed the frigate, the coast maybe three
hundred yards out. He could make this. He didn’t check to see if
the tender was out or if it was coming for him, he just went under
again.

When he reached the shore, he was spent, his
arms were shaking and he couldn’t seem to get enough breath. He
felt like jelly but he crawled up over the gravely shore and grey
stones to the tree line. He collapsed at the base of a tree and
looked out into the sea; the frigate seemed to stand in place
menacingly. He heard noises in the woods behind him but he couldn’t
bring himself to turn around, between the rowing and the swimming,
he was spent. If it were a boar, then fine he’d be gored. If it
were another bandit, fine he’d be robbed and stabbed. He closed his
eyes; he was done.