by Helen Bell
‘Please, can we talk about something else?’ Jesral pleaded uncomfortably.
‘Sorry, sorry.’ Renia was silent for a while, searching for another, safer topic.
‘What did you do, when you were in Ilmaen before?’ she asked eventually.
Jesral brightened: ‘I was with a travelling show. We went all round the country; toured the south in autumn and winter, north in spring and summer. I danced, I sang a bit, I did knife throwing, I juggled…’
‘Oh, that must have been wonderful. You are lucky. I’ve always wanted to juggle.’
The other girl gave Renia a quizzical look. ‘Why would you want to juggle, of all things?’ Renia seemed not to have thought about it before, but it didn’t take her long to reach a conclusion.
‘I think it’s because I can see no earthly use for it. There’s a point to almost everything I do; it would be nice to do something pointless, just for its own sake. Just because I could.’ She yawned and sighed deeply, and so did Jesral.
‘Now you’ve set me off.’
‘Best to give in to it. We’re supposed to be up early. Goodnight, Jez.’ Renia smiled, a genuine, friendly, trusting smile, before she blew the lamp out; Jesral heard her turn over and settle down. Her level breathing a few minutes later told Jesral she was already asleep.
Jesral’s yawn had been a false hope. Sleep didn’t seem any nearer. She mulled over the events of the last few days again.
It was strange how Renia really seemed to trust her, despite yesterday. She had thought that would be the final nail in her coffin with all of them. Kerin she had no illusions about, and Renia was right about Vel; her brother or not, he was Kerin’s man now. She waited, patiently but joylessly, to be proved right. It was perhaps ten or fifteen minutes before the floorboards outside the room creaked ever so slightly. She shut her eyes and feigned sleep as the door opened a crack. The surveillance was a long one; so that would be Kerin. Vel had the decency to be brief, in his guilt over the deceit.
She wondered if she’d ever succeed in making those two trust her. Loyalty was a quality she prized, and she gave it very rarely these days. But yesterday, after she had got over the initial shock, had fixed something in her. These three were so close, sharing their dangerous secrets, and she had a sense that the bond between them would be unbreakable. That provoked something very like jealousy in her; a desire, not to break the bond, but to share in it. She felt as though Renia had seen it, and had offered her a welcome, even now, but that didn’t fit with the way the others watched her. Yet they clearly trusted Renia’s judgment, had faith in her vision, so surely they’d trust Renia to know if Jesral was a threat?
Perhaps she was being neurotic. Perhaps they only watched her because they were worried for her. It made little difference. She’d thrown in her lot with them, and that was it. Nothing else to worry about now but getting on the ship tomorrow.
And, of course, being sure to avoid a certain travelling show that would be touring the northern ports of Ilmaen at this time of year…
Chapter 12 – The Crossing
They were mindful of the captain’s warning and careful not to be late. Vel and Kerin took the horses off early to market, returning with the proceeds in Internationals, and they split the money four ways. Back into their travelling clothes then, and the swords, the only remaining signs of affluence, were wrapped in blankets and strapped to the girls’ packs.
Vel persuaded a passing barrow boy to give Renia a ride down to the fish market, so they arrived at the quayside closer to breakfast than sailing time. It was busy there, but not as busy as yesterday; nearly as many people came and went, but there seemed to be more order, less bustle and hurry, for yesterday the ships had been eager to catch the imminent tide. Doubtless it would be busy again soon, as people took advantage of today’s late morning tide.
Jesral and Renia sat and waited outside a quayside inn while the men took all four packs to the Dawn Wind. The captain might not want the women to board until just before sailing, as was the habit for passengers. However Vel was soon back to carry Renia to the ship; it seemed the captain did not concern himself with the usual practice.
The gangplank on to the ship came as a shock to Jesral, for it was nothing more than a set of planks, barely two feet wide, with cross timbers to give a foothold in the wet, and no handrail. The nonchalant way Vel strode up it with Renia in his arms did nothing to help because from where she stood, Jesral could see it bow under their weight. Kerin followed and they all disappeared on to the deck, lost to her sight beyond the bulwark.
Jesral edged nearer the quayside and looked over it. Grey-green water swirled sluggishly and menacingly, hinting at strong currents dragging between the ship and the piles below the quay. She backed off and the sick feeling it had given her subsided a little. She tried again and got one foot on the gangplank before a wave of fear hit her. She stood there, eyes riveted to the side of the ship; it was too far away, and the gangplank was too narrow. Her heart was racing, she could feel it right up in her throat.
‘Are you coming aboard?’
Vel’s tone was impatient, but by the time she looked up, he had worked out what the problem was and his expression had changed to one of concern.
‘I’m trying,’ she informed him. He jumped on to the gangplank, making her shudder, and came down it. She backed off to let him on to the quayside.
‘How did you get on the ship last time?’ he asked.
‘On a nice, solidly built gangplank, four feet wide, with proper handrails.’ She decided not to mention the added assistance of two large shots of gin before boarding.
‘I see. Well, what if I carry you up?’
‘What if you don’t?’ she responded tersely. She wasn’t abandoning what little dignity this sorry situation had left her.
‘Then I’ll go first and you can hold my hands for balance.’ She eyed the swirling water again, then Vel.
‘Oh, dear… all right then.’
Vel took both of her hands and stepped backwards on to the gangplank. ‘No!’ she squealed, pulling him back on to the quay.
‘What?’
‘You might fall in, going backwards.’ His grip on her hands tightened enough to hurt. ‘Ow!’
‘I’m going up.’ He glowered at her. ‘I’m going backwards. I’m going now. Are you coming, or shall I tell the others to come and wave you goodbye?’
That earned him a glower in return. ‘You're a brute. I hate you and I’m only coming to keep Ren safe from you.’ She gave him a half-hearted shove with the crushed fingers.
He led her as before, still going backwards himself, all reassurance now and encouraging her to keep looking at him and feel her way with her feet. At the top he stepped down on to the deck, and she rushed the last few steps after him as if she expected the gangplank to vanish now he was off it. She grabbed on to him as the nearest solid object.
‘That wasn't too bad, was it?’ The note in his voice was different now. It was a moment or two before she was aware of Kerin and Renia looking at her curiously, before she realized how tightly she was clinging to Vel. Jesral extricated herself – since it was his hold as much as hers – with what composure she could muster.
‘No. Thank you for your help.’ She took up her pack from the deck where it lay and stuck out her chin. ‘Where’s the cabin?’
oOo
Captain Harrat had given the women his own cabin, not the more basic accommodation that passengers normally used. Jesral’s willingness to stand up to him had gained his respect and he seemed very taken with Renia, who was shy in most things but comfortable on board a ship. Kerin had at first thought the captain might suspect who he was and be sympathetic to their cause, but the colour of the man's language at Kerin's first crewing mistake suggested otherwise. He steeled himself against the abuse and tried again. Vel showed him how to bind his hands against the chafing of the ropes, the cause of his error. At last all was ready aboard and in the bright light of late morning the Dawn Wind cast off, s
winging out into the Pool towards the open sea.
Kerin hauled on a rope as more sail was put on. His thoughts were elsewhere, fixed on Karn; south, and east, far across sea and land, where the mountains began. Granite Karn, a fortress second only to Lestar; a spur of rock riddled with passages, and cryptlike chambers tunnelled deep into its heart. It was like Lestar but without the beauty; more honest for that maybe, but no more forgiving. From his stays there as a child he knew the stories about it. Dark tales of oubliettes: chambers where people were thrown and then forgotten. His mind raged at the idea of Jastur abandoned in one of those, and his heart sickened. The puzzle of how to rescue him lay heavy on Kerin’s mind, and no answers came to him.
Part of his malaise was genuine seasickness. No answers would occur to him while he had that to contend with, so instead he got on with the job in hand. There would be more than enough time between Beloin and Karn to formulate some ideas.
oOo
Jesral was suffering too, and once the ship was out of harbour Renia persuaded her up on deck. There were steps up to the poop deck from the captain's cabin. They were steep but with an effort Renia could manage them, and at least being up there kept her and Jesral out of everyone's way. It put them above even the helm deck where the captain now stood, so they sat against the deck rail and breathed in fresh air and had a good look around the ship.
The captain came and joined them from time to time, his brusqueness reserved now for his crew, it seemed. As they passed a dredger he explained how it cleared the main channel into harbour for deep-draught ships such as theirs. The two crews exchanged greetings before they quickly left the dredger behind.
Renia watched Kerin and Vel working side by side, Vel explaining the purpose of each order. Kerin looked a little ill, wearing a set expression on his face most of the time as he listened and worked. But occasionally he would smile, deriving some pleasure from the way the ship reacted to their efforts. The Dawn Wind flew through the water, quickly leaving Greatharbour behind. She ran with the wind and the tide past the vastness of Slope Island and the towering cliffs of its west coast.
The day wore on and the sun began to lower. Now cool, slow-moving cloud shadows mingled with the golden light crossing the deck. Beam and rope and sail strained to pull them ever eastwards. Full sail was on, and the wind steady; watchful sailing but little hard work. The low hum of conversation down on the main deck barely reached the poop. The girls sat there, soaking up the remaining afternoon warmth, undisturbed by the creaking of ropes above them and planks below. Even Jesral seemed to feel better, to the point of lying down and falling asleep on the bare planks.
While she slept the sun sank out of clear skies into the heavy grey bank that was building steadily to the west of them, and by the time she woke she had been in shadow for some time. The wind had become ragged and more biting. Renia prodded her and offered her a sweater; she already wore one herself, and held some more – the men's, brought up from the packs in the captain’s cabin. The men had taken only the bare minimum with them into the cramped crew quarters where they were to rest.
Jesral pulled hers on and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Renia stared off to starboard, watching what she knew to be storm clouds. Jesral gazed that way too, unconcerned until she realized she could not see land anywhere. She looked all round, saw the coast hazy with distance behind them.
‘It that Mhrydain? What’s happening? I thought we were to follow the coast up, not cross the water yet.’ It was plain any change of plan would serve to make Jesral nervous, and worse than that, the change was making the vessel pitch and roll more.
‘Wind's changed,’ Renia told her, as honestly as she could without alarming her. ‘We're having to tack – zig-zag – to maintain our course.’ She couldn’t help staring off to starboard still. She tried to keep it hidden, but feared the expression on her face would tell Jesral there was more to it than just idle curiosity.
‘May I join you, ladies?’ Captain Harrat was as good as with them anyway, already on top of the steps from the helm deck, but Renia nodded him on with a shy smile. She gestured to the sky.
‘The weather seems to be setting in. Could you get these to our friends?’ She held up the sweaters, which the captain took. He looked at her closely.
‘Your brother tells me you’ve sailed too. What d’you make of this?’
Renia frowned off to starboard, toyed with the idea of lying to protect Jesral but abandoned it. She didn’t want to be dishonest with her, and the captain looked to be the sort of man who would just say how things stood anyway. ‘I don't know these waters, but I know bad weather's building. Do you plan to make for a port?’
Harrat shook his head. ‘No chance of that this side of the water. We need a port with a good nine feet of draught to be safe. That one back there,’ he indicated a harbour almost directly behind the ship but too far away to be seen, ‘has a bar you avoid at all but high tide, so we’ve missed that. The next nearest deep-draught ports are twenty miles off, either way.’ He indicated up and down the coast, back the way they had come and where they had planned to go. ‘That storm will hit before we make a port this side, and we’ll be in its dangerous quadrant. But the wind’s comin’ round with it; my best option’s to run south sooner than I expected and hope it stays north of us, so the eye passes behind us. It’ll take us to landfall in Ilmaen further west than I’d hoped, but if we’re fit to carry on we can take advantage of the tide stream on that side then. Safe to say, ladies, it'll be rough goin'. I'd be below and get everythin' put away, if I were you.’
Jesral, already a deeper shade of green than ought to be possible, seemed incapable of speaking. Renia set one hand on her arm reassuringly. ‘Can we wait until it really turns? My friend gets sick below deck.’
‘Ah, well, hmm. Try her on a drop of spirits when you do go, eh? You'll find some down there.’
Renia's forecasting was accurate. Yellow-grey clouds sped in over them from the west and headed for the eastern horizon, and the ragged gusty wind increased. Driving rain was not far behind, and sent the girls scurrying for their cabin. The storm lamps had already been lit all round the boat. Renia could see the rain sheeting down like a gauzy curtain in front of one as she and Jesral sought a firm footing on the slippery boards. They headed down into the cabin below and slid the hatch across tight.
Jesral had found a couple of blankets. One she wrapped herself in as she threw off her wet clothes, kicking them into a damp pile in one corner. She rubbed her hair dry with a corner of the rough fabric as she searched out a dry shirt from her pack, and was struggling into that as Renia followed suit with the other blanket. Jesral was still damp, and the shirt was sticking to her as she tried to get it on. ‘God damn it, I’m no warmer!’ she cursed. She checked the blanket, turned the driest side of it to her and wrapped herself up in it again.
Renia found the spirits, in a little cupboard over the bunk. She poured them both a tot of liquor and they huddled together, sipping until the shivering stopped.
‘I feel sorry for the others,’ Jesral remarked. ‘They're still up on deck in the cold and wet doing the work, while we get the cabin, the spirits and the warm bed.’
‘I feel bad about it too, but there's not much we could do up there. Since we have the good end of the bargain, let’s make the most of it.’ Renia threw off the blanket, slid into her dry shift and clambered under the covers.
Jesral heaved a deep sigh. ‘I can’t see me getting any sleep in this weather, even given a comfy bed – bless the captain's heart. No, I think you’d best take the inside, and leave me within reach of the bucket. Move over a bit.’
As they settled into the shared bed and, surprisingly, drifted off to sleep, Renia's thoughts about the captain were equally kind. She had seen him watching Kerin, was sure that he suspected his new deck hand’s real identity, but felt no qualms about the man. She and Jesral had kept their mouths shut and he seemed the sort to keep his suspicions to himself and let other people go about thei
r business. It was likely, from what he had said to her as they chatted on deck, that if his sympathies lay anywhere it was with their cause anyway. The weather might be against them, but she felt safer than at any time since they had started the journey.
oOo
Many hours later, as what should have been dawn drew near, Kerin tied off the rope he had been set to hold and took a moment to rest. A lull in the driving rain gave him a chance to look back to the helm deck, and he saw the captain approach his helmsman. The wheel was lashed now, and the helmsman slumped over it more asleep than awake, just hanging on to it for support, not to control it; he and another sailor had battled to tie it down as the storm reached its head, more than an hour since. The damned storm had followed them across, Vel had explained earlier; luckily it had not overtaken them, but there was no evidence of it lifting yet either. Kerin watched the captain shake the helmsman and shout into his ear. Clearly the sailor was being ordered to go down below for a rest and a bite to eat, with the captain intending to cover the helm himself until the next watch came on. The end of this one could only be an hour or so away now. On their first watch they had avoided the worst of the storm but then it had really taken hold and the captain had called them back on deck early, so that even the hardiest sailor among them was short on his sleep. The crew had been wrestling the storm these many hours, and were all exhausted.
After a check of the compass and the lashing, the captain surveyed the rest of the ship through the endless rain. He saw Kerin looking up, and signalled him to send the boatswain over. On the helm deck high in the stern, the captain was well placed to see any problem that arose. Just enough sail was set to keep them off the lee shore, except for one stubborn one that had jammed despite all their efforts to wrench it free. It was catching every squall. The boatswain worked his way over to the captain, clinging to handholds as the ship rose and fell. Three of them were left hanging on below the sail, trying to make out in the flashes of lightning overhead what was jamming it. The storm was so severe it had blown out most of the storm lamps.