Oathen (12 page)

“Don’t worry, Meena’s always hidden. I learned
what this symbol does,” he assured Rhona, indicating the pair of
triangles on the Circuit, after she expressed concern over his
ever-changing mental focus. “It was the one the former users of the
Circuit used to keep their Patruses safe in battle. She’s pressed
the symbol with me, so the Circuit will protect her no matter what
formation I choose. It won’t let me exclude her until she presses
the same button with me again, and it lets me pinpoint her without
even looking.”

The sun reached its zenith. Kemsil informed
Rhona that his testing was complete, and that the Circuit required
more effort to extend its range, rather than to obscure more people
and things inside itself.

“So if we sail closer together, we’ll tax you
less,” Rhona summed.

“Exactly,” he said, rubbing his temples with
his fingers.

“All right,” she said, tapping her chin with a
finger, “the maximum range you reached was about half a league in
all directions. We can’t very well sail all the way to Shanal
within your orange circle. The first good storm will scatter us.
I’ll put a scout ship or two ahead. If they run into trouble, the
rest of us can still have the element of stealth.” She grinned
wickedly.

“My thanks, good captain,” he said.

Rhona ordered the other two caravels in her
fleet,
Green Pearl
and
Uncle Goldpouch
, to scout.
Their crews raised anchor and headed out among the sun-drenched
western islands of the Jualan archipelago. Rhona led the
Princeling
and his four escorts after it, with a gap of
several miles since the waters were calm. Her caravel led the way,
flanked by two galleons a few lengths behind on either side, and
the remaining two brigantines followed behind them, nosing toward
the gaps between the three ships.

The day passed quietly; the few ships they
sighted took no notice of the visible scout ships. When the last of
the sun’s afterglow had left the western horizon, Kemsil sat down
against the rail and let his head fall into his hands.

Rhona had handed off the steering to Ruel for
a few minutes while she ate an avocado, and she squatted beside the
Jualan in the light of the ship’s jellyfish lamps,
chewing.

“They’ll never catch you now,” she
said.

The refugee nobleman turned to her, a wry
smile on his face. “That either.”

“What do you mean? You can’t possibly miss
them. Your own family wanted you dead for ruining their deal! Me,
I’d be looking for ways to pay that favor back.”

Kemsil clenched his jaw against a flurry of
emotions. “My childhood, my youth, my entire culture, are dust to
me now. I will never again set eyes on the Celestial Calendar,
where I would slip away to avoid my sisters’ bickering.” He huffed
a small snort of nostalgia. “Nor my secret beach, down through the
cave that fills at high tide, where the sharks sleep.”

“There are more than one of those,” Rhona
said, laying a hand on his arm. “Though I hear what you’re saying.
You should join the Clan, and sail the seas with us,” she offered.
“We can offer you endless horizons of amazing wonders, and all the
adventure your heart will ever crave.”

He raised his eyebrows, considering, and she
chuckled.

“I’m serious. Keep it in your mind, if you
live through this crazy plan of the Seamother’s.”

Kemsil laughed. “I’m not so sure death would
be a bad thing.”

“Why not?” Rhona asked, slicing another bit of
avocado off and biting it off her knife.

“Cursed to be an eternal refugee, alone in the
world?” Kemsil shook his head. “I’m young and vibrant, cursed with
an old criminal’s life. If I sailed off with you to a life of
adventure, any Clan woman who bestowed a gift of claiming upon me,
as you have done with Geret, would die of my curse once her claim
was consummated,” he said, sliding his eyes over to hers. “Geret
has my envy.” He grinned, shrugging a shoulder.

Rhona blinked and said, “You’re sweet, Kemsil,
but I’ve already laid forth my claim, and I don’t want to die just
yet. Thanks for the offer, though.”

He bowed his head to her and smiled. “As you
wish, fair captain.”

She offered him a thick slice of her avocado,
and he accepted with a nod of thanks.

~~~

Across the deck, Meena motioned Geret over to
join her and Sanych. He resisted an urge to glance at Rhona; the
last thing he wanted was for the captain to take out her anger at
Sanych again.
But it’s Meena, the Seamother
, he reasoned.
Even Rhona couldn’t expect me to say no to her.
He ambled
over.

The brisk wind ruffled the Shanallar’s frosted
red hair as she said, “It’s several more weeks to Shanal, even at
the swift pace of the Clan ships. We’re hidden by the Circuit until
we arrive there, but once we reach the coastal waters near Cish,
that may change.”

“How?” Sanych asked, clasping her
hands.

“Remember the volcano I mentioned just outside
the city?” They both nodded. “That one’s active. But the entire
city, the harbor, and the countryside for dozens of miles around
all lie within an enormous ancient caldera. The cliffs that form
the caldera wall reach out into the sea and form Shelter Bay. There
is magic everywhere within the caldera’s walls.”

“You think they will sense us through the
Circuit’s barrier?” Geret asked.

“It’s not impossible. Their magic will be much
stronger within the caldera.”

“But won’t the magic of the Circuit be made
stronger as well?” Sanych asked. “It should still protect
us.”

“The Aldib didn’t create the Circuit of
Sa’qal; they stole it. It’s an ancient device,” Meena said, “from
the era when magic was still plentiful. I have no idea if it was
formed by earth magic or by one of the other magics that died out.
If it’s made of earth magic, we’ll be fine. If not…” She
shrugged.

“Folly in a firkin,” Geret swore.

Meena pursed her lips. “Exactly. We can’t rely
on the Circuit until we know if it’ll work the way we need it to.
So I’ve made a new plan which serves more than one purpose. First
of all, I need you to trust me absolutely.”

Sanych frowned. “After all we’ve been through,
you have to ask that of us?”

The Shanallar’s green gaze encompassed them
both. “And second, I need you to get captured by the
enemy.”

“
The
unrest started by the Cult of Dzur i’Oth four centuries ago
resulted in the collapse of the monarchy of Shanal,” Meena
explained, as she sat with Kemsil and the Vintens around Rhona’s
cabin table. “One of the strongest Jualan Houses of all time, the
House of Tamkrit, saw an opportunity for more land than they could
possibly own, even if they conquered every island in the
Archipelago, and they took their entire people to Shanal,
proclaiming themselves liberators and stabilizers.”

“And that actually worked?” Salvor
asked.

“It actually worked,” Kemsil confirmed, “for a
while. The nation welcomed the change. Their rule was known as the
Tamkrit Dynasty, though it only lasted three generations. Jualan
was the official language of the rulers of Shanal during that time.
I think they’ve kept many Jualan words to this day.”

“Yes, they have,” Meena said.

“Oh, well that’s handy,” Geret grinned,
speaking Jualan to Kemsil. “We’ve already learned that from you.”
When he caught Sanych’s questioning glance, he repeated himself in
Versal.

“Well, I haven’t,” Sanych said.

“Shanallese has been the official language
again for three hundred years,” Meena reminded them. “Though they
still spoke Jualan exclusively in some of the distant villages
during my last trip to Shanal. That was about sixty years
ago.”

“So,” Sanych asked, “we need to learn
Shanallese?”

Geret rolled his eyes. “I hate
studying.”

“You seemed to learn Jualan easily enough,”
Salvor commented.

“Well, Anjoya was a very…” Geret shot an
embarrassed look at Kemsil, “…engaging teacher.”

Kemsil merely smiled. “Yes, she is that. But
you had no trouble picking up insults and curses in—how many
languages can you curse in, anyway?”

Geret laughed. “Seven. The Kauna’kana insults
for being slow were particularly useful during the harbor
rebuilding. And I know four ways to insult someone’s mother in
Jualan alone, and five—no, six—ways to call someone a—”

“Geret.” Salvor raised an eyebrow at
him.

“Fat sloven,” Geret finished. In response to
Salvor’s continued glare, he raised his eyebrows innocently.
“What?” He turned to Sanych and grinned. “It’s really a horrible
insult to the Jualans. I like
dhun jai
best. Means ‘sea
cow’.” He made a watery moo.

Kemsil winced in exaggerated
fashion.

Sanych raised an eyebrow at her prince. “You
know the sea cow is no bovine relation at all, but more closely
associated with dolphins, right?”

“Stop ruining the joke, Sanych,” Meena said
with a grin. “Now then, today I want to start teaching you
Shanallese. Then you and I can focus on teaching the others who’ll
be accompanying us ashore into Cish.”

“Does this mean you’re ready to share the rest
of the plan details with us?” Geret asked, a hint of impatience in
his voice.

Meena smiled at him. “I’ll be happy to share
every little detail of my plan with you.”

“Superb.” Geret rubbed his hands in
anticipation.

“In Shanallese.”

“You’re a wicked heroine, you know that?” he
said, glaring in mock anger.

“I’m aware,” she said, a sly smile on her
lips.

“I’m not comfortable with you as bait for
anything, Geret,” Salvor said.

“You forget yourself, my lord Thelios,” Geret
said, his voice cool. “You’re walking proof of her extraordinary
abilities. I’ll gladly put my life in Meena’s hands.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what makes you think
Geret’s the bait, Salvor,” Meena said, meeting his hazel eyes. He
glanced at Sanych and opened his mouth to reply.

“Maybe you could discuss this outside,” the
Archivist interrupted, drumming her nails on the table. “I have a
Shanallese lesson now.”

Salvor gave Meena a sharp look. “My
apologies,” he said to Sanych. He rose and left the
cabin.

“Sorry, Sanych,” Geret added. To Meena, he
said, “I’m still going to trust you.”

She searched his face for several moments,
then nodded. Geret took his leave then, followed by
Kemsil.

Meena’s voice carried down the corridor as
Kemsil began to close the cabin door. “Lesson one: the five words
never to say to a Shanallese woman.
Cainar
means ‘helpful’.
Don’t confuse it with
cainor
: ‘slutty’…”

~~~

“I’m going with you, Geret,” Salvor said, the
moment they reached the top deck. Kemsil excused himself to stand
by the rail, adjusting the settings on the Circuit.

“I believe that’s a given at this point,”
Geret said dryly. “I’d wager Meena’s probably counting on it for
some facet of her plan to succeed.”

“Geret, a word?” Rhona asked, standing at the
top of the aft castle’s stairs. Behind her, Ruel steered the ship’s
wheel.

“Sure,” he replied. Salvor gave him a warning
glance, and Geret frowned back at him.

She took his hand and led him below deck. When
he saw she was heading for her cabin, he tugged on her
hand.

“Shanallese lessons,” he said. “Can we use my
cabin?”

She giggled and stepped over to open the
smaller cabin door. Once they were inside, she shut it again and
pressed him against it with her hand, standing close.

“You’ve made me very happy by accepting my
claim,” she murmured, letting her lips brush his cheek near his
ear.

He exhaled slowly, bringing Salvor’s words to
mind. “You mean the kiss on deck last night?”

“Aye, although that’s just the start of the
festivities.”

“I didn’t realize I was signing up for a whole
party. What all can I expect? Do you have those little poppers that
go bang when you toss them?”

Rhona giggled. “No, but they sound fun. We’ll
have to steal some sometime. For now, I’ve claimed you as my
mate.”

“Mate? Like Ruel and Siela?”

“No, the pleasurable sort of mate, Geret.” She
nuzzled his neck.

Salvor had been right. Geret’s eyes widened
and his heart sank, though other parts of him had other ideas. “You
might have mentioned that up front. I thought I was just caught up
in a game of whisper-in-my-mouth.”

Rhona laughed. “You’ll have to teach me that
one.”

He moved her back a pace and looked at her
with a serious expression. “Rhona, I mean it. You can’t spring a
surprise engagement on a prince like that. There will be
consequences, no matter how attractive you are.”

“Funny,” she replied with a grin, “I haven’t
noticed any drawbacks so far.”