Sasharia En Garde (19 page)

“Not because he’s done anything I consider particularly
untrustworthy. Opposite.”

She fingered the taut shroud. “I don’t understand.”

“Because my distrust makes no sense. I don’t trust him
because I like him more than not. I, um, grew up, let us say, hearing about
handsome and untrustworthy men.”

“You think him handsome? I don’t. Anyway, you mean kings.”
She made a thumbs-down gesture.

“Well, yes. Not only Canary, either. For a time when I was
about thirteen my mother was angry with my father for not returning. She got
past that, but I guess it had its effect.” I whooshed out my breath. “I really
have to get over it as well. I mean, Zathdar was there all night. I saw him.”

“He could have had someone search your things,” she said.

“Yes, but is that really characteristic? From what little
we’ve seen, if he wanted to, he would have searched it himself. Right in front
of me.”

“Yes, that’s more his style.” Her tone made it clear she did
not think the better of him for it.

I wiped my sweaty forehead against my sleeve. At home I
would have jumped in the shower. Now I turned away, my braids swinging against
my back, and finished the bread and cheese as I made my way below to the
cleaning frame shared by the entire crew. It was made of wood, fitted into the door
to the crew quarters, but laden with magic spells. I stepped through, enjoying
the snap and tingle of magic whisking away dirt and grime and I guess bacteria.

The air was hot and stuffy down there, the night crew
swinging in their hammocks, their deep breathing audible. I paused in the
companionway, listening to the thump of feet overhead, as I considered Elva’s
words. I’d completely forgotten those two older men who’d first knocked on my
door at my previous apartment, before Devli appeared at the new one and tricked
me.

Except those couldn’t be his tutors. They had to be
Canardan’s mages.

Again I’d overlooked the magical side of this struggle. I
had to consider it now.

Devli had magical communication, and he’d been sitting in
that hold doing magical stuff. He might not have been making a communications
device for Zathdar at all, whatever he’d told the privateer. What if he’d been
secretly making a transfer token, like to get two of us off the ship and to his
magisters?

Also, I’d been seen by the navy guys. Did
they
have magical communications? I had
to consider the fact that not only did Canardan know about my presence, but
these magicians did as well. Magicians for and against Canardan, busy with
their own purposes. And I did not really know what their goal was, once they’d
brought me to this world.

“Problem?”

I lifted my head. Zathdar lounged on the ladder above, one
arm lazily blocking the hatch so that no one else could come down. He was back
to his scarlet shirt. A shaft of sunlight shimmered with a ruby glow down that
extended arm, highlighting its latent strength.

I said, “Devli seems to have received orders to search my
stuff.”

Zathdar made a slight grimace. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Here’s another thing to consider. He could, say, receive a
transfer token in a note box. If he cannot perform a double transfer himself.
He’s a nice kid, but I don’t want him anywhere near me anymore.”

Zathdar looked up at the bright blue sky beyond the sagging
mainsail, the light stippling the dark sweep of his lashes until he blinked. “I
can keep him busy down below, if you stay on deck. We only have a few more days
of travel as soon as the wind picks up.”

“Will the wind pick up?”

“It’s already beginning.” He tipped his chin behind me.
“We’ll have to tack and tack eastward, but north should be a swift run.”

“East?” I exclaimed. “I thought we were going west. Aloca
Bay lies west, I know that much.”

“But the king has Aloca guarded by too large a force to slip
by.”

“So where are we going?”

“Ellir.”

“What? Isn’t that one of the king’s strongholds?”

“Well, it is. In a sense. But have you ever heard the old
saying ‘hide in plain sight’?”

“I think our version is ‘The safest place for the thief is
under the sheriff’s bed.’”

He grinned. “That’s it. I obtained the latest merchant codes
from our friends aboard the
Skate
yesterday, and so it will be a sober trading vessel that makes landfall at
Ellir, nice and law abiding. The muscle in Aloca will be searching every
vessel. We land in Ellir and do nothing to draw attention.”

He hoisted himself up, and I followed after. A faint
coolness feathered my cheek. A breeze, just as he’d said. The water in the
distance ruffled in little wavelets, whitecaps frothing, color more greenish
than the deep and placid blue below us.

“What about the blockade?” I watched one of the slack sails
stir, then bell slightly.

“Here comes,” someone called from above. Owl bawled out an
order, and the sail party scrambled to make the most of the rising breeze.

“The blockade is broken.” He gave me a quick grin, a long
dimple flashing beside his mouth down to his jaw, and a corresponding flash of
warmth kindled my innards. “They’re on their way to reinforce Aloca.”

I took a deep breath. Pirate or privateer, there was no
future here.
Move along
, I told
myself, and I climbed past him. He did not try to stop me, but launched in the
opposite direction, gazing upward and calling a command to the team shaking out
the topsails to catch the rising wind.

By the watch change, the wind had risen steadily, blowing
straight along the coast, and so we tacked in a dramatic zigzag back and forth,
using the westward bend to propel us gradually northward. The whistle tweeted,
feet thumped. Soon came the agreeable roar of voices from below as the day
watch ate their meal and the next watch scrambled from the hatches, checking
sea, sky, and sails and sniffing the air.

Devli was nowhere in sight. Neither was his sister. I stayed
at the rail, out of the way, enjoying the wind. When a hand struck my biceps in
a friendly thump, I was startled to discover Gliss there, the wind combing
through her blond hair.

“Thanks for not blabbing,” she said gruffly.

“No one’s business.”

She brought one shoulder up, her smile surprisingly shy.
“You off at Ellir?”

I nodded, expecting her to express relief, even if covertly,
but she said, even more gruffly, “If you change your mind. Till you’re—well,
until. You could join our watch. Women are good in the tops because we’re
fast.”

“Thank you.” I was gratified and surprised. Not even the
reminder of my assumed princessly duties implied in that “until” could upset
me. I was just going to have to accept that everyone else had expectations of
me. That didn’t mean I had to raise a banner and lead an army.

I shoved that subject to the back of my brain, knowing it
would sit there and leer at me. “May I ask you a question?” On her cautious nod
of assent, “Did you set out to become a pirate—a privateer—or did it sort of
happen?”

“You didn’t know?” She looked surprised. “Everyone’s heard
of Zathdar’s fleet. People want to sign on. But it’s tough, first to get an
interview, then to pass their tests.”

“No, I hadn’t any idea. Our invitation was the kind that you
don’t refuse.” She gave my weak joke a perfunctory smile. She was a very
serious person, I realized. “So why does he have such a small fleet?”

“He trains people and then sends them out. Other ships’re
glad to take us on. It’s the training, see. And he doesn’t keep people long. On
account of the price on his head. Except for Owl and his captains and watch
commanders.”

Odd. Why would a privateer train people and send them away?
Training costs money, at least on Earth. You don’t train people to be as fast
and tough as these and then just send them off, unless . . .

“We’ve got allies if we need ’em. They know a couple of
signals, see. Like when we broke the navy’s threatened alliance with the
Chwahir last winter. He says three is more maneuverable.” She shrugged. “But if
he needs a fleet, well, they’re out there.”

How do you build a fleet when you haven’t a king’s budget?
You train them, send them out with a couple of signals . . .

I forced my thoughts back to Gliss. “So you started with
life on the sea?”

She shook her head once. “Born in the hills between what
they call Locan Jora and Khanerenth. Fighting all the time. Too much of it. Got
tired of all the family alliances bickering, worse, the landholders versus the
plains people who have always ignored borders, ignore them now, and will always
ignore them. So. Ran away to sea. Fishing boat, ten years. Then got voted in
here, a year ago.”

I whistled. “Now that I know what your invitation is worth,
I thank you again.”

She squinted upward, frowned at something going on with one
of the upper sails, and pushed away without another word, swarming up the
shrouds like she was flying.

By nightfall we were skimming northward at exhilarating
speed. The sky was clear, the air balmy. Three of the day crew brought out
instruments, sat on the railing of the forecastle half-deck, and began to play.
Some of the crew sang songs in round, in which I could hear the difficult but
distinctive Sartoran triplicate chord changes and beats. The teenaged crew
members started dancing in twos and threes on the forecastle, one boy alone on
the capstan, blithely ignoring jeers and even a couple of metal ale cans potted
at him, which he dodged without missing a step.

Owl stumped up beside me. “C’mon, Princess, give us a
dance.”

“Not much of a dancer.” I grinned. “I’m afraid if I get up
there and swing my hips around like people my age do at home, every single ale
pot would be tossed at me.”

“You get up there and swing them hips, and they won’t be
tossing ale pots.” He wiggled his slanting brows.

That made me laugh, but I (easily) resisted the temptation
to make a fool of myself.

Zathdar appeared at my other side. I was leaning against the
rail with my elbows propped behind me. He leaned next to me, his profile etched
against the taut foresail as he watched the dancers jig and twirl round and
round the capstan. But I could feel his attention on me. He asked in his mild
voice, “No dancing?”

“I’m afraid of what it says about my upbringing that I
wouldn’t know what to do at a grand ball, but put me on a dojo floor and I’m
ready to rock and roll.”

Dojo
and
rock and roll
did not translate, but he
didn’t question either of them.

I said, “So did you have a pirate mom or dad?”

He looked up in mock exasperation. “How often do I have to
remind you that I’m a privateer?”

“Who dresses like a pirate.”

He angled that quick grin again, the dimple accentuated by
the golden light of the swinging lamps overhead. I was vaguely aware that Owl
had gone from my other side.

“A pirate,” I added firmly, “who has no sense of color.”

He put his hand to his bandana, which was the long
green-and-gold one hanging down his back, the fringes blowing around his slim
waist. “Who says green and red is not eminently sensible? Why, in the worst
rainstorm, in the thickest action, Owl and Robin only have to look round once
and find me anywhere.”

“Including in nightmares.”

There was the dimple again. I looked away, but I was
laughing.

I heard his laugh, a soft chuckle, almost under his breath.
His elbow companionably bumped against mine as the ship lurched, and again the
fire of attraction crackled through me. But he made no moves.

“Here’s an added boon. With this crimson shirt, see, if
someone nicks me it doesn’t show. I can lie and gloat that they missed. Protect
my rep that way.”

I laughed again. It was an unguarded moment, at the end of
which our eyes met, and his smile turned pensive, his gaze held mine—light blue
as the water under a guileless sky—and I had to exert all my will to look away,
or drown.

Yeah. I know it sounds stupid, but I really did feel like I
couldn’t breathe. My nerves flashed hot and cold, my entire body tingling with
proximity, with possibility. But I looked away, and as the feelings settled
down to the glow one gets when the physical self—whose needs are as simple and
direct as those of the creatures around us who do not speak—recognizes equal
attraction.

Zathdar said, “With this wind, we’ll make landfall day after
tomorrow before dawn, on the early tide. I suggest you disembark with the cargo
and make your way into the town on the other side of the brewery. If you like,
I’ll meet you at the Gold Inn, which is run by the brewers. I’ll give you any
news I discover. That should arm you for whatever you decide next.”

“Thanks,” I said to the planking of the deck.

When I breathed again, he was gone. I lifted my head in time
to see him duck under his cabin door, fringes rippling in the wind.

Owl drifted up next to me. “Why don’t you go after him?”

He was so direct yet managed to be so unconfrontational I
was not tempted to say,
Why don’t you
mind your own business?
as I might have to anyone who sneered or leered or
made some sort of innuendo.

I said, “You have your life here on the sea. Not for me to
say if it’s right or wrong, but it’s not really mine. I have to find out what
mine is.”

“You don’t want to try to find it here?” Owl raised a
scarred hand. “Cause is a good one. More than that, or maybe less, I’ve never
seen him tempted to break his own rule before.”

I remembered what Gliss had said about his not being
involved with crew.

“Maybe that’s why I should go away.” I tried to summon a
smile, but Owl squinted at me, not smiling back.

My mother said when I was about sixteen:
Here’s the truth of my experience.
Attraction happens, and it’s glorious and good when it happens back. For a
short time if the body has picked a bore or a brute, long if the mind and the
heart can also match. Because attraction, though it might seem to change the
world, is not love. Love is the match of all three. Body. Mind. And spirit.