by C. E. Murphy
Taishm's proposal went too much against the way things had always been. Rasim shook his head impatiently. If they'd been willing to support Isidri, it was silly for them to not embrace Taishm's interpretation of the same idea.
Taishm, though, seemed pleased at the response, as if understanding that it was the youngest guildmembers whose support he most needed. "It may not work," he admitted, "but even if it doesn't, I believe it will accomplish what Seamaster Isidri wishes: a greater understanding between each of our guilds, and perhaps with the palace as well. This, I hope, will be my legacy as well as Isidri's, but I have a final question to ask before it can go forward."
He turned to Isidri. "Will you, Seamaster Isidri, agree to become Guildmaster to the new guild, and select teachers from each of the guilds to train our new students?"
Isidri gave him a good hard look. "That's not much like retirement, young man."
Taishm laughed. "I was thinking of it more as keeping your meddling fingers out of Asindo's new Guildmastery, if you must know. It's a rare Guild-master who retires rather than dies in office, and I think that's to save their successors from all the scolding glances and clucking tongues."
Isidri looked affronted. "I would never!"
Anything else she might have said was lost beneath a howl of disbelieving laughter shared by apprentices and masters alike.
Isidri chuckled, then did as she'd refused to before: knelt before King Taishm. "I'd be honored, lad."
"I'm thirty-eight," Taishm said dryly. "I'm nobody's lad, Isidri."
"At my age, everybody's a child. Do you want me to do the job or not?"
Taishm laughed too. "Yes. Yes, I do. Rise up, Kingmaster Isidri, and come with me to discuss your new guild." He took her hands and drew her up to a wall-shaking bellow of approval. Isidri's
brown cheeks actually darkened a little with a blush, leaving her looking rather young and very pleased. Asindo caught her in a hug when Taishm finally released her hands. That was enough for all the other guild members on the stage, and they converged on her, hugging and offering congratulations. Rasim hung back, watching with a smile, until the shifting crowd brought him up beside Taishm.
The king arched a curious eyebrow. "Not in the thick of it?"
"I'll get my chance. I like to see everyone happy. Seamaster blue looks good on you, sire."
Taishm grinned down at himself. "It does. Better than Sunmaster red, to be sure. I've always thought it was too harsh for me. I'm surprised you're not wearing it."
Rasim shook his head. "I'm a Seamaster, whether you've got me studying with the Sunmasters or not."
"Perhaps I'll put you in coats of many colors," the king offered.
"All of you, in the Kingmasters' Guild."
Rasim stumbled over his own feet, for all that he wasn't even moving. "What? Me ? In the Kingmasters' guild?"
"You began all this. Shouldn't you reap the benefit of that?"
"I—I..." Rasim's breath wheezed out of him, hope crushed by reason. "I...really? But I'm a terrible witch, your majesty.
Everybody knows that. You should be asking, well, Desimi. Maybe Kisia. But me? I want to," he said wistfully. "I really want to.
But...me?"
Taishm's manner went dry. "I am the king. I could insist."
"Insist on what?" Captain Asindo appeared beside the two of them, clapping Rasim on the shoulder. He was already wearing the arm-bar decorations that marked the Guildmaster, and Rasim, looking at the length of Asindo's greying hair, thought maybe he should adopt the colorful braid as well. It had made Isidri stand out, and it would be a nice nod to the witch who had been Guildmaster longer than any other.
"Insist that Rasim be part of the Kingmasters' Guild. He seems to feel he lacks the talent."
Asindo shrugged his big shoulders. He wasn't a tall man, but he was wide and burly, not the sort to trouble with. He ran the Waifia with thoughtful silence, making his crew think twice about their duties, and Rasim expected him to run the guild the same way. "I'd think a small talent in many magics would be as worthy as a great skill in one."
"It's done me well enough," Taishm said dryly.
Asindo beetled his thick eyebrows, then chuckled. "I meant no offense, majesty. I was thinking in terms of the ordinary populace, not the royal family. But at the moment you can't have Rasim."
"What?" Taishm and Rasim both said the word, though Rasim snapped his mouth shut so a wail of protest wouldn't break free. The king, however, suddenly made the most of his height and his rank, staring incredulously at Asindo, who wasn't bothered at all.
"I said you can't have him. Nor Desimi nor Kisia, for that matter. The Waifia sails on the afternoon tide, and my journeymen will be aboard."
Rasim said, "What?" again in a much smaller voice. Ships'
schedules were set weeks ahead of time, but he'd heard nothing about the Waifia setting sail. Of course, with as busy as he'd been, running between guilds, maybe that wasn't a surprise. He wondered if Kisia and Desimi would have bodily hauled him onto the ship the same way they'd gotten him out of bed that morning.
Taishm rolled his jaw and scowled at Asindo. The Guildmaster lifted his eyebrows and waited patiently, a tactic Rasim had seen him use ship-board dozens of times. Just like the freshest apprentice, Taishm slowly lost his edge, irritation sliding into exasperation. "Well, Siliaria's— hair ," he said with a little too much emphasis, obviously substituting a milder curse for whatever he'd had in mind. Rasim eyed him in amusement. If the king thought he hadn't heard—and said—worse in his time, then Taishm was much more sheltered than any Guild orphan could hope to be.
Asindo smiled in a self-satisfied way that re-minded Rasim of Isidri. It wasn't a smile he was used to seeing from Asindo, and he wondered if it came with being Guildmaster. "That's what I thought," Asindo said, then said, "Well?" to Rasim.
"Nothing. I just didn't know we were sailing this afternoon. And how can you take the Waifia when you've just been made Guildmaster? Isidri never had time to sail her ship."
"First, it's a poor sea witch who doesn't know when his ship's due to sail, Rasim. I don't care if you're studying with the Sunmasters. I expect you to keep up on your duties here." Asindo flicked a finger up as he spoke, then a second one as he continued. "Two, Isidri officially retired the Waifia into my hands when she turned seventy-five, so for twice your lifespan and more she's had no ship of her own to sail."
Rasim's eyes popped, though he kept his lips pressed shut as he did the quick calculation. He was thirteen, so twice his lifetime was twenty-six, which meant Isidri was at least a hundred and one years old. And she'd just taken on a new position as King's
Guildmaster. It seemed likely she intended to live forever. Rasim couldn't quite imagine anyone stopping her.
"You're not paying attention," Asindo said drolly.
"I am! The Waifia —I didn't know she'd been Guildmaster Isidri's.
I thought Guildmasters gave up their ships."
"They do, but there's no sense in having a good ship put to shore for years on end, which brings us to three." Asindo lifted a third finger. "I'm sorry to say it, but I won't be the Waifia 's captain for this journey. And that's why you and the rest of the crew are going, no questions asked. I'll not have a new captain on board with a crew who doesn't know the ship."
No journeyman would argue with a captain on that, much less the Guildmaster. The king, though, drew breath to protest and was silenced by a look from Asindo. "My guild, my crew, my laws, your majesty. You can have Rasim when they return."
Taishm's eyes glittered. "It's your guild, but even the guildmasters are mine to command. If the Waifia must sail today, then sail she shall, but to the destination I desire. I didn't come here today only to hear Isidri's plans made public. I have also come to send Rasim to the Northlands."
Chapter Four
"You have?" Rasim heard his own voice a little distantly. He had just come from the Northlands six weeks ago, and had only faintly imagined returning there someda
y. "But winter has come on. Their harbors will be frozen..." He glanced toward Ilyara's own harbor, not actually visible through the thick guild walls. Weeks ago, Northerners had frozen that warm water with a magic no one had known they'd had. Their own harbors might well be ice-free after all.
"Queen Jaana was able to send a ship," Taishm said without inflection. "She asked for you in specific, Rasim. I thought you hadn't met the queen."
"I didn't. I met Inga and Lorens. Lorens is..." Rasim looked around, as if the tall Northern prince might be nearby. One of Taishm's guardsmen threw his hood back, exposing pale yellow hair and a quick grin. Rasim's ears went hot with surprise. He hadn't expected Lorens to actually be there, certainly not masquerading as a guard. It wasn't how royalty worked , at least not in Rasim's mind. "Lorens is right there," he said feebly.
Taishm suddenly looked as though he was trying hard not to laugh.
"Yes. He'll be returning home with you."
"Why—" The question popped out before Taishm had finished speaking. Rasim's ears got even hotter. "Not why is he coming home with me, but why—"
"Why has my mother asked for you in particular?" Lorens planted a hand on the stage and vaulted up, showing his strength and vigor to good advantage. Showing Taishm up, Rasim thought, frowning.
Taishm, as king, had to be formal in approaching and addressing the guilds. Lorens, although royalty himself, wasn't a prince of Ilyara, and didn't have to be as formal, even if royalty usually was. But his casual manner made Rasim feel like Lorens was trying too hard. Perhaps, like Rasim, he hadn't forgotten the ugly moment in the palace weeks earlier, when it had seemed as though he had been part of the plot against Taishm. The moment had passed, but it left a lingering caution at the back of Rasim's mind.
Still, it was hard to be wary of the Northern prince as he clapped Rasim on the shoulder, then dragged him into a friendly hug. "That may be my fault, Journeyman. I wrote to her about your efforts in saving Taishm, and she already knew of your heroic venture into our salt-poisoned lake. She wants to meet you, and,"
he said, pausing for emphasis, "she hopes you can help us to restore fresh water to that lake."
"Me? Lorens, I told you, maybe a whole ship full of sea witches—"
"—which we'll have," Lorens caroled cheerfully.
Rasim stuttered over the truth of that, then surged on. "Well, even with a ship full of them to purify the water, you'd need Stonemasters to go to the bottom and stop that, that fountain —"
He ran out of words again, remembering the eerie light and the endless spout of salt that he had discovered at the bottom of Hongrunn's lake. "It's not that I don't want to go, your highness," he said to Taishm. "I just don't know what help I could be."
"Have you not been studying diplomacy with the Sunmasters for weeks? Think of this as your journeyman test," Taishm suggested.
His voice turned a bit sour. "After all, you have already negotiated one treaty. Surely a lad who can pocket an army of his own can hold his ground when he speaks with another foreign queen on his king's behalf."
Rasim's ears went hot a third time, the blush burning its way down to his cheeks this time. "It's not an army in my pocket. I meant that treaty to be for the good of Ilyara, not me . And mostly I was just trying to bargain because something for nothing is never a good idea. I don't know that she'd really give me—us!—
an army."
"And yet just in case," Taishm said drolly. "You'll continue your studies on board the Waifia with Master Endat, who is perhaps the
most diplomatic of my Sunmasters. His journeymen will join you.
Between them and the Skymasters who will come to help you fight the winter winds, you'll have nearly an entire King's Guild aboard the ship, Captain Asindo."
" I won't," Asindo said.
Taishm looked almost startled, then smiled, a brief and bright expression. "Of course not, Guildmaster. Who will be captaining the Waifia in your place?"
"Captain Nasira." Asindo transferred a stern gaze to Rasim.
"She's less lenient than I am, lad, so watch yourself. No diving off ship to slay sea serpents, you hear?"
Rasim, very dryly, said, "I'll try to avoid it."
Asindo grinned at his tone, then slapped Rasim on the shoulder, nodded to the king, and slipped off into the crowd to begin his Guildmaster duties. Taishm watched him go, then turned a thoughtful expression back on Rasim. "You'll need Stonemasters, will you?"
Rasim slumped. "To fix the lake, yes, but..."
Taishm's eyebrows elevated. He waited, and finally Rasim mumbled,
"But nobody likes sailing with them. They weigh the ships down."
Amusement creased Taishm's forehead. "Do they now. How is that?
Does a Stonemaster weigh five times that of another man? Perhaps seven times that of a Skymaster, who work with wind and therefore must be lighter?"
If Taishm's guards weren't just an arm's reach away, Rasim thought he might kick the king's shin. "It's the magic. You must know how it has different weights. Stone witches weigh the ships down."
A curious half-smile wrinkled Taishm's face. "Different weights.
Tell me about that, Rasim."
Exasperation flooded Rasim. "Any big magic has a lot of weight.
But if it's just one Sunmaster, their power usually feels light and crackling, like fire. Seawitchery is slower than that, heavier, until it gets up to full force and then it can be terribly fast and dangerous, like floods or riptides. And sky magic is lighter than even sunwitchery, even in a storm. I haven't worked with Stonemasters, not really, so I don't know it as well, but I know there's not a captain in the fleet who wants to sail with them because they slow the ships down. Their magic weighs too much."
Taishm's smile kept getting bigger, though it looked more astonished than pleased. "That's utterly fascinating, Rasim.
Excuse me," he said as if Rasim was the king and he an ordinary
citizen. "I have some matters to attend to." He strode away, Lorens in his wake, with no more ceremony than Asindo had taken.
Rasim blinked after them, then shrugged and went to pack for the afternoon's sail.
~
There were Stonemasters on board.
Rasim knew it before he'd even made ship. It was something in how the Waifia listed toward the docks, and something in the heaviness of the hot afternoon air, but mostly it was Captain Nasira's tight jaw and clenched fists, and the look of loathing she sent toward Rasim as he approached the ship. Rasim faltered in dismay. Desimi, two steps behind him, crashed against Rasim, swore, and shoved him forward. Rasim stumbled forward reluctantly, moving far more slowly than before, and Desimi snarled, "What is wrong with you, Sunburn?"
" Really? " Kisia breathed the question as she slipped around the two boys and glanced at the ship. "Captain looks like she's in a mood, that's all. Come on, Rasim, she's not going to hold you under until you drown." She leaped lightly onto the gangway, digging bare toes against the damp wood, then got a better look at those on deck and faltered, too. "Oh. Maybe she will drown you. How long can you keep air under water, Rasim?"
Rasim squared his shoulders. "Long enough to slay a serpent." He stepped onto the gangway and past Kisia, his own brash answer giving him a little confidence. "Journeymen Rasim, Kisia and Desimi requesting permission to come aboard, Captain."
For a moment it looked like Nasira al Ilialio might refuse them.
She was tall and rangy and whipcord quick, with her black hair tied in a narrow que down her back. Not very many Ilyarans had straight enough hair to make a braid that thin, and to Rasim's eyes it looked like a weapon in itself, something Nasira could use to strangle someone with. She snapped, " You ," at Rasim. "
You're responsible for this," and jabbed a finger toward the gold-clad Stonemaster and her two uncomfortable-looking journeymen.
Rasim took a breath, ready to argue, then held it in his chest.
Technically the king was responsible, but Nasira was unlikely to appreciate the d
istinction. Rasim let his breath out on a sigh.
"I'm sorry, Captain."
"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you and them off my ship."
That was the kind of argument Desimi often used, demanding things he knew he wouldn't get. Rasim kept his mouth shut, knowing better than to point that out to a captain of the guild. When he remained silent, Nasira stabbed a finger toward him. "They're
your responsibility. I want them out of my sight and out of my way. And if I catch you neglecting any of your other duties—!"
"That," Kisia breathed at Rasim's elbow, "isn't fair."
"Doesn't matter." Rasim tried not to move his lips so Nasira wouldn't know they were talking. Aloud, he said, "Yes, Captain,"
and waited until Nasira growled, "Permission to come aboard granted," before leaping ship-side.
For a few seconds, with the gentle rock of the Waifia beneath his feet, the first hints of his sea legs coming back, nothing else mattered. Not the bustle on deck, not Nasira's frustration, not even the weight of the Stonemasters on board. His whole life, Rasim had wanted nothing but to sail on this ship, to learn the stars at sea and to work with the water. It had never seemed likely, given his wretched lack of magical talent, but it seemed Siliaria, the goddess of the river and sea, had smiled on him.
Nothing could be completely unbearable as long as he got to sail, and maybe someday he would captain his own ship. Maybe even this ship, the Guild's fastest and most-beloved. A broad smile split Rasim's face, pure happiness at being in the place he loved best in the world.
"Something funny , journeyman?"
He would not, by Siliaria, let Nasira dilute his love of the sea.
He said, "No, Captain. I'm just glad to be back on the Waifia ,"
and refused to let his smile fade while she glared at him.
"We haven't got room for your cursed stone witches," she snapped.