Oathen (13 page)

He had to smile at her attitude. “I meant for
me. When I return home, there will be a lot of explaining to
do.”

She stepped close again, sliding her hands
along his collar. “You don’t have to return home. At least not any
time soon. My mother leads Clan Agonbloom; that makes me equivalent
to one of your princesses. Why couldn’t we have a pairing of
equals? Can you imagine the power we could wield, with my prowess
at sea and your experience on land?”

“Rhona, I can’t get distracted right now. I’m
on this little quest, you see, to rescue my cousin from an evil
spell and save the world from the Cult of Dzur i’Oth. It’s kind of
important.”

“Did you forget that the only reason I’m here
is because of you? Your quest is my quest. There’s no distraction
here.” She kissed him gently. “Well, maybe just a
little.”

Salvor’s words came to Geret’s mind again.
“
If it helps, just pretend you’re me
.” He knew how hurt
Sanych had been by Salvor’s lies and betrayal, and Geret had no
desire to wound Rhona in a similar fashion. Not least because she
was quick of temper and handy with a sword. Yet he’d seen that same
temper directed at Sanych already, and didn’t want to see that
again either.

“Listen, Rhona, I like you. I really do.
You’re superb. I…I’m just—”

“Geret.” Her tone dropped into caution.
“Please don’t walk away from this. I’ve claimed you in front of my
whole crew. They expect you to say aye. We all do it; it’s part of
who we are. It’s not a permanent arrangement, if that’s what you’re
afraid of. You could leave my ship at the next Spring Trading and
go anywhere you liked, even back to Vint. But please, stay. At the
very least, stay with me until we get to Shanal. If you break it
off before then, my crew will see me as a poor leader. They’ll
think I can’t keep you in line, and they might start a mutiny. I’m
already having trouble with two of my captains who dislike being
this far from home waters. You don’t want to be forced to turn
around by mutineers any more than I do.”

Not reach Shanal, after all this
effort?
Geret’s mind whirled with the new threat. I’ve already
given up far too many lives to get this close. I can’t risk failure
again. I just can’t! “I didn’t realize so much was at stake,” he
said slowly, feeling his words apply to the both of them. “You know
how important reaching Shanal is to me. And I know how important
your fleet is to you.”

She nodded, waiting.

Folly take my head, and make it a clean
cut. I have no choice. No choice.
He licked his lips and said,
“I think we can reach an accord.”

Rhona exhaled in relief and squeezed his hands
with hers. “Trust me, Geret, you’ll be far from disappointed. Clan
life is never dull.”

“Well, shiny,” he said, using the Clan term of
approval. His heart pounded inside his chest.
It’s just
pretending, and she’s a fine looking girl…a harmless bit of
deception. Harmless.

Rhona laughed. “I know you’re not used to Clan
ways, so I’ll try not to overwhelm you with our glorious traditions
all at once.”

Geret met her eyes and read her eager
expression.
Such a dangerous woman focusing all her attention on
me. I’d better not muff this up.
He swallowed. “What’s our
first lesson, then?”

She nibbled on her lip, holding his gaze.
“Let’s start with a personal one: honesty.”

“Honesty?”

“Show me you’re being honest. Do you really
accept my claim? Prove to me that you do and I’ll reward you.” The
teasing smile on her lips left little doubt as to what she
meant.

Geret’s eyes trailed over her, taking in her
low-cut, lacy blouse and her form-fitting trousers.
If I can
ignore Sanych for her own safety, surely I can pay attention to
Rhona for the good of the quest. If we don’t make it to Shanal, all
my duty comes to naught.

Compromise all around, and Folly
slay me for a heartless fool.

“Are you sure you can handle the ardor of a
Vinten prince?” he asked. He stepped close enough to feel her body
heat through his shirt and ran a knuckle along her cheek. “I’ve
been known to make women swoon at a mere look.”

Pupils wide, she murmured, “I’m no mere
dirtwalker.”

“No,” he breathed, lifting her chin, “but
you’ll swoon anyway.”

He felt a wave of desperation wash through him
as he lifted her chin, and he lost himself in it as his lips closed
over hers.

“…
And so
Curzon the Crooked was sentenced to death for his crimes,” Sanych
told Ruel as she braided a damaged rope, “even though burning down
half his town with the Eye of Woe was an accident.”

Ruel shook his head, sitting beside her on an
upturned bucket. “I can’t believe he survived having his back
broken.”

Sanych nodded. “The king of Gothrún wanted him
dead for killing his most powerful wizard, Garrolf the Gilded, but
Curzon wasn’t interested in waiting for the noose. He escaped into
the night, crooked back and all, right through the wards the other
royal wizards had put around him. No one knew where he had gone or
what he might do; the island nation lived in fear of him for two
years, because they didn’t realize Curzon was a coward at
heart.”

“What happened two years later?” Ruel asked,
his fingers working his own line repairs.

“Meena showed up.”

Ruel’s head twitched toward her. “This really
happened,” the pirate said, leaning forward.

Sanych smiled. “She had come to Gothrún to
meet with Garrolf. She hadn’t heard that he was dead. When the king
told her that Curzon the Crooked had killed him and was terrorizing
the countryside, she decided to track him down.” Sanych paused
abruptly, and her eyes flicked back and forth.

“Sanych? What happened next?”

“I’m sorry. I just realized something. Gothrún
is ‘an island of fire and ice’, which means it must have volcanic
activity, and thus earth magic, which gave both Curzon and Garrolf
their gifts. Meena must’ve wanted to talk to Garrolf about magic,
or something relating to it. It’s odd that she didn’t mention that
when she told me this story. I think it’s an important fact, don’t
you?”

Ruel grinned into a gust of wind. “Archivist,
you think every fact is important.”

“Well, they are!”

“Will you please finish the story? It’s not
polite among the Clans to keep a listener waiting.”

Sanych sighed, setting aside her realization
and picking up the story. “It wasn’t difficult for Meena to find
Curzon. Food, boots and heavy clothing went missing among several
closely-placed villages just as the autumn weather worsened. One
moonless night, she tracked him through the snow to his wretched
little cave, a tiny maw of black in the gloom.

“She pounced on him as he struggled to clamber
over a lip of stone, his arms full of stolen foodstuffs. Though she
was prepared for a long and painful battle against various magics,
Curzon curled into a ball of misery and begged her to kill him
quickly. But she had questions instead.

“When he realized she wasn’t going to kill
him, he told her the tale of how he’d accidentally awakened the Eye
of Woe when all he really wanted was to steal it, how his back had
broken and healed at an angle, and how he’d escaped from prison.
Now, he was too afraid to end his own life, though he was cold,
hungry, and crippled.”

Ruel’s fingers had paused. Nearby sailors
listened in as well.

“Meena was stunned. The whole situation was
based on a series of misunderstandings, and everyone was too afraid
to find the truth. She said, ‘I know how you may be restored to
full health, Curzon, but in exchange, I will have your most solemn
word to do exactly as I ask, when I ask it.’

“Well, naturally Curzon protested. ‘I am a
coward, lady,’ he said, ‘incapable of bravery in the smallest
measure.’“

Ruel snorted. “He wouldn’t last long aboard a
Clan ship, then.” Several sailors laughed.

Sanych grinned and continued, “Meena told the
thief that she would not put a sword in his hand, nor force him to
fight anyone with his magic. ‘In fact,’ she told him, ‘I can
provide you safety and solitude far from Gothrún’s shores for the
rest of your days, provided you agree to my terms.’ So Curzon
agreed.

“Without a word, Meena bent his body backward
over the lip of stone until his spine broke at the spot of the old
injury. Even as he shrieked in agony, she healed him, and in
moments, his cries of pain had turned to hysterical, terrified
laughter. You see, he hadn’t believed Meena when she promised him
healing, and now he found himself faced with a terrible choice:
renege on his agreement with a determined magic-wielder, or give up
his horrible yet familiar existence and leave his homeland
forever.”

Sanych paused. Everyone else paused too.
“Well?” Ruel prompted. “Which did he choose?”

The girl shook her head and sighed. “Meena
never told me.”

“Ah!” Ruel exclaimed, thumping a palm to his
head. “The Seamother is as cruel as the deeps!”

Dissatisfied with the lack of an end to the
story, the sailors around them grumbled and went back to work.
Ruel’s hands worked steadily for a while, then they
stilled.

“It’s not right, what she’s doing,” he
whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

Sanych paused in her rope repair, and squinted
into the sun at him. “You mean with Curzon, or her plans for the
Dire Tome
?” she asked.

“Neither. My cousin, with your prince. I only
heard what she’d done when I got back from the
Lenila
. I
think it’s a big mistake.” He slipped from his upturned bucket and
squatted beside her.

“What are you talking about?”

“Gods above and below,” the pirate muttered.
“No one’s told you.”

Sanych looked at the other sailors out of the
corner of her eye. “Told me what?”

“Rhona has laid a claim on Geret.” At Sanych’s
blank stare, he clarified: “She wants him to be her ally and
bed-mate.”

Her stomach flipped, then clenched. Her
fingers stilled on the rope in her lap. No one had told her. Not
even Meena. How was she supposed to advise Geret when she didn’t
have accurate information? And…bed-mate? Geret was as Vinten as she
was…wasn’t he? “That’s ridiculous. He’d never agree to such
a—”

“He hasn’t objected so far.” Ruel’s blue eyes
flashed.

“This can’t be right. I’ll go ask him—” She
began to stand up.

Ruel pressed her down onto the deck again. “No
you won’t. That’s not how things work here. This is Rhona’s first
claim as captain. You remember what happened when you accidentally
told me information before Rhona heard it? That was your one free
pass. Next time, she’ll hurt you.”

“But Meena told her she couldn’t do
that.”

“No one tells Rhona what she can’t do. I’ve
got the scars to prove it. She’ll just find another way to get what
she wants. I hope you’re right about Geret; he’s the only one who
has a chance to change her mind.”

“Does everyone else on board agree with what
she did?”

“It’s always safer to agree with the
captain.”

“But you don’t. Why not?”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Because he’s
not Clan.”

“Ruel! Eels take your wagging bait of a
tongue!” Rhona growled, stalking up from behind Sanych. She reached
down and grabbed two of his fingers, twisting them around and
raising his palm to the sky, hauling him to his feet. He stood on
tiptoe to avoid dislocating his digits.

“Aye, cap’n?” he asked, keeping his voice as
calm as possible.

“Three shifts at the wheel, in absolute
silence,” she ordered. “Starting now.” She flung his fingers away
from her and crossed her arms.

Her cousin clenched his jaw and glared at her
for a very long moment. Sanych wondered if he would dare disobey
his captain.

In the end, he didn’t. He nodded curtly and
stalked away.

Sanych remained silent, though she bit her lip
to discourage herself from speaking. Despite Meena’s statement that
Rhona was not to punish Sanych further, she recalled well the
moment when Rhona’s dagger had missed her head by an
inch.

Rhona squatted beside her and smiled. “Let’s
get you out of the sun,” she said, and offered her hand to the
Archivist, pulling her to her feet. “You’ve probably missed reading
books; in case you didn’t notice, I have quite a collection of
first editions and rare books aboard. You’re free to read them as
often as you like; why not start now? We don’t want to overtax you
with deck work, as special as you are to the Seamother.”

“All right,” Sanych agreed, wariness warring
with her desire to find a peaceful balance with the pirate. She
followed Rhona down to her cabin.

“Make yourself comfortable,” the captain said,
ushering her in. “Geret’s just finishing up, and the crew will
start bringing in the meal at noon. Come, Geret, let’s leave the
Archivist to her reading.”