Dragonfang (35 page)
‘Oh, they always ask if they can be your sweetheart, although some put it a bit more crudely, like –’
‘But Daretor’s never asked me anything like that. Goodness knows, he’s had enough chances.’
‘Oh. In that case, you probably have a problem. Can we go below now?’
C
ircumnavigating the continent turned out to be a reasonably profitable way to go home, as well as being safer than retracing their steps. They picked up cargoes and passengers outside the normal shipping schedules, and by the time they were back in home waters again they had every prospect of landing in D’loom with a large and mostly honest profit.
Altimak was their first port of call in Skelt territory, and they were pleasantly surprised to find that the
Dragonfang
was not under a detention order. The customs officials searched the vessel carefully, but the crew had already scoured the ship for anything illegal or incriminating, and sold it in Lycellia.
Jelindel also managed to see the voyage through without saying anything more affectionate to Daretor than ‘Just like the old days, travelling with you again.’ Daretor remained on particularly bad terms with Zimak, nagging him continually about the rapid deterioration of his body. Zimak paid him little attention, and neglected his duties aboard ship until his meals were cut off.
‘The home port,’ said Jelindel, leaning on the handrail as D’loom became distinct on the horizon.
‘I should get an entertaining reception,’ said Hargrellien. She did not seem at all happy to be home.
‘Hargrellien, you know it is not as bad as it seems. I spoke to your father about my own, er, gender status. He was quite amused. He even invited me to stay at your family mansion – to help keep an eye on some new contract guards that he intends to hire.’
‘He still doesn’t speak to me.’
‘The man is a warrior. Being rescued by his youngest daughter is probably bad for his pride.’
‘It’s going to be hard to go back to being the youngest daughter. The freedom and excitement of the past months will be hard to give up.’
‘Just remember that only one out of three cabin boys are still alive at thirty. Ships are dangerous. We were lucky to survive any one of our skirmishes.’
‘Will you stay with us – at the mansion?’
‘Until the ship sails again, yes.’
‘Good. It will help me keep my sanity. How are Daretor and Zimak?’
‘Honourable and obnoxious, in that order. Being forced to help sail the ship has toned up Zimak’s physique a bit, but once he hits the D’loom taverns with his two months’ pay, that will not last. Daretor trains and exercises fanatically, and grooms himself well, but he will always be eighteen inches shorter than the body he lost.’
‘Have you talked to him –’
‘No. I couldn’t. Don’t even raise the subject.’
‘I meant have you talked with him about anything? Do you know his plans, his hopes, his dreams?’
Jelindel sighed, then straightened and stretched.
‘We have spoken generally, as we practised sword work. He is now even more obsessed about proving himself a mighty and honourable warrior. Being shorter seems to make all that harder, as far as he is concerned.’
‘Who is he trying to impress? Himself? Everyone else? Is there a girl somewhere?’
‘There were girls in his past, but they tried to make him settle down. Can you imagine him running a tavern, or a farm?’
‘Not really. What is he going to do now?’
‘There is fighting in Baltoria, some rebellion against the Preceptor. He is going there.’
‘To fight for which side?’
‘I doubt he would ride behind the Preceptor’s standard.’
‘It does not sound very hopeful. Has he never said anything at all encouraging? Invited you to get drunk with him, perhaps?’
‘He asks me to train with him all the time, and he did propose that I come with him to Baltoria.’
‘Just you? Not Zimak as well?’
‘Just me.’
‘That could be a hopeful sign. After all, Daretor might be as shy as you in these matters.’
‘Do you think so?’
‘Jelindel, I have just spent months listening to sailors boast about their ways with women, then I have seen what they really do and say when in port. Even the roughest of them can be coy when it comes to female company – especially someone they really want to impress.’
Jelindel rubbed her face, then shook her head and stared across at D’loom. She did not look happy.
‘I rather expected a romance would begin with cakes and flowers, rather than an invitation to go to war,’ she admitted.
‘What did you say to him?’ asked Hargrellien.
‘I said I would think about it.’
‘My advice is to say
yes
.’
Jelindel said, ‘Pah! If only it were that easy.’
‘It is. Only make sure you ride with him for the right reasons.’
Even though the Preceptor was the ruler of Skelt, there were no guards or constables waiting for the
Dragonfang
when she docked at D’loom. The crew was paid off, and told that they would be sailing on the morning tide in ten days. There were no friends and families waiting as the ship tied up, however. The crew had actually sailed out on the
Dark Empress
.
Jelindel, Hargrellien, and Augerin found themselves standing on the pier with a bag each, double checking the money they had been paid for their work aboard the
Dragonfang
.
‘We should go,’ said Hargrellien. ‘Mother and the girls probably think I died when the
Dark Empress
was captured by the privateers.’
‘Then they can mourn your death for a few minutes more – and stop calling your sisters “the girls”. It sounds like you are their brother,’ snapped Augerin.
Jelindel hefted her travel bag. ‘So we’re ready?’
‘I asked one more person to join us. Ah, Daretor, there you are,’ exclaimed Augerin. ‘We’re all here now, so let us be off.’
‘And what of Zimak?’ Jelindel asked Augerin.
‘He jumped ship the moment the crew was paid off.’ He paused. ‘I beg you not to take offence, but I could never find it in myself to trust that one.’
Jelindel exchanged a smile with Daretor. ‘No offence taken,’ she said.
Once they had reached the narrow streets beyond the docks, Jelindel took Daretor by the arm and dropped back a little.
‘What is going on here?’ she hissed. ‘You said you would be getting a room at the Golden Shark.’
‘Hargav’s father is nervous about security at his mansion,’ Daretor whispered. ‘He wanted a couple of bodyguards, men he can trust to keep an eye on his house guards.’
‘Oh. And you accepted?’
‘Yes. He said the honour and safety of his family was in danger, and that you were helping too.’
Did he accept because of me? wondered Jelindel as they walked. Perhaps there was hope. He was like a closed book with an intriguing title in a locked glass case. How to get the case open? Perhaps sharing the same house in rather more relaxed circumstances would provide opportunities for him to speak of softer things than fighting. Or perhaps it would give her the same opportunities. While they were sparring or practising disarming techniques she could hold his arm a bit longer than usual, give it an affectionate squeeze, and say, ‘Daretor, have you ever considered having a bottle of wine with me in the moonlight, instead of a couple of tankards in the tavern?’ Surely that was the solution. It was a lighthearted way to raise the subject, yet one that Daretor could not misinterpret.
Augerin’s mansion was only a few streets away from where Jelindel’s own family mansion had once stood. They actually passed the walls that she had known as a child, but by now a new house had been built there.
In theory I own the land, but can I be bothered making a claim? Jelindel wondered.
Augerin entered his mansion first, followed by the rest of them. A servant tried to turn them away until Augerin identified himself as the owner of the house. The servant spluttered an apology, then
hurried away. Moments later Hargrellien’s mother and nine sisters came sweeping into the room. Augerin and Hargrellien were smothered in a swirl of dresses, curled hair, scents and embroidered handkerchiefs. Presently the fuss died down, and Augerin’s family spread out in a line facing Jelindel and Daretor.
‘Well now, papa, and who are these two handsome young sailors?’ asked Sermilly, the eldest, as the others smiled and fluttered their eyelashes.
‘They’re my friends, Daretor and Jaelin,’ Hargrellien said before her father could open his mouth.
Over the next hour, servants were sent running to the market, the dining hall was decorated with evergreen boughs, seasonal flowers, and scraps of coloured parchment, and lunch became a celebration feast.
Hargrellien refused to change out of her attire, but she did consent to taking a bath and wearing scent. After lunch she thrilled and even frightened her mother and sisters with several bouts of swordplay with Daretor and Jelindel. She ignored a small cut to her shoulder that caused one of her sisters to faint, then she demonstrated her skill at knife throwing, and finished by rolling up her sleeve and flexing her considerably developed biceps. The show broke up into something resembling a party.
Daretor took Hargav’s gender switch revelation in his stride. But he had little time to dwell on Hargrellien’s duplicity, as he soon found himself cornered by Sermilly.
‘And how long have you been a sailor?’ she asked, taking his hand and looking into his eyes.
‘Oh, a few voyages. Not very many at all. I was a mercenary for longer than –’
‘A mercenary,’ squealed Sermilly, widening her eyes and squeezing his hand. ‘A sword for hire. How very dashing and
romantic. Have you ever rescued ladies who were in peril from horrible, dangerous outlaws?’
‘I – only two – well, three if you count Jelindel, but she didn’t need much rescuing.’
‘Who is Jelindel?’
‘Er, a friend of Jaelin’s.’
‘I wish you would rescue me. You could carry me to safety in your strong, manly arms.’
‘I – I – I – only if you had fainted –’
‘Oh, but I would have fainted, most valorous Daretor.’
Not far away Jelindel was standing with a goblet of fruit juice, staring at the floor and straining to listen to what Sermilly was saying to Daretor. I’m doomed, she thought sadly. I couldn’t speak rubbish like that even if my life depended on it. I’ve lost him. As soon as the sun is down that trollop will be in his bedroom window faster than –
‘Master Jaelin, I have been waiting for a chance to speak to you alone.’
Before Jelindel could respond, another of Hargrellien’s sisters put her arms around her and hugged her tightly.
The girl pulled back slightly and stared Jelindel in the eye, her nose almost touching Jelindel’s. ‘I am Helda and that’s for looking after my sister. Especially for the magnificent fight on the pier when you beat all those sailors who wanted to roughhouse her,’ she said, breathlessly.
Jelindel smiled uncertainly and managed to disentangle herself without causing offence. Recovered from the shock, she squeezed Helda’s shoulders almost affectionately. She realised her mistake and dropped her hands quickly.
Helda stared at her dreamily. ‘I am so surprised by you, your chest is so broad yet your hands are so small … gentle.’
Not half as surprised as you would have been if my breasts had not been bound, thought Jelindel.
Helda seized Jelindel’s hand again.
‘The skin of your palm is all hard and callused, yet the back of your hand is as smooth as a girl’s.’ She looked Jelindel in the face, then ran her fingers down her neck. ‘Did anyone ever tell you what long, soft eyelashes you have?’
‘Ordinarily I don’t allow people this close,’ Jelindel managed.
‘I would love to feel them brushing against my cheeks.’
Jelindel edged away until she felt the wall at her back. ‘You’re most kind, Helda, but I’m a sailor, and you’re a lady. The only girls I keep company with are less than ladies …’
‘Harlots. My goodness. How utterly romantic. What are they like? I have never met one. Would I look alluring dressed as they dress? How do they dress, how do they speak? You must tell me everything!’
Some hours passed and it was with considerable relief that Jelindel and Daretor eventually retired to the guest suite and bolted the door behind them. There were two bedrooms and a bathroom leading off a parlour. Jelindel realised that for the first time since they had met, she was finally alone with Daretor. He dropped his rollpack to the floor and ran his hand across his unshaven face.
‘Thank the gods, I could not have taken much more of Hargav’s, that is, Hargrellien’s sisters,’ he sighed, putting his hands on his hips and grinning at Jelindel.
Does he mean her sisters, or does he mean what the little vixens were
doing
to him? thought Jelindel. Well, I don’t care. I’ve had fights to the death that were less harrowing than the hours just past.
Before Daretor could react, Jelindel slid her arms around his chest and pressed her lips very firmly against his. He wriggled with surprise for a moment. After what seemed like an eternity, she felt his hands pressing very lightly and tentatively on her back.
