“Andreas?”
Andreas had slumped over, breathing hard. “I’m all right. Mostly. Just some scratches and bites. You can have Thea slather me with her ointments later. What about you?”
Her wrists were raw and bleeding. Scratches on her face and arms oozed fresh blood. Oh, but she was alive and free—almost free. With a little effort, she untied the ropes around her ankles. “I’ll do,” she said. “Though Thea will want to slather me as well. Now what?”
“We can’t do much until they land and Druss takes most of her crew away.”
No sooner had he spoken than the ship gave a lurch. Overhead a commotion broke out, audible even this far below the open decks. Anna and Andreas both went still. The commotion went on for a bell or longer, then the ship fell silent once more.
“That was not a small thing the gods gave us,” Anna whispered. “But I’ll not argue.”
“Neither will I.” Andreas lurched to his feet and stumbled away into the darkness. She heard him cursing, then a loud crash as he fell against something.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for water. No use storming the castle if we’re too thirsty to fight. And if we are very lucky… And so we are. Anna, come here.”
Anna crept toward the sound of his voice. Her hands encountered his, and he pulled her to her feet. “Here,” he said, “is our deliverance.”
He guided her hand over an enormous wooden barrel—one of the ship’s water casks. Koszenmarc knocked on the side and muttered a curse. “Empty, but there are more.”
He made his way down the row, rapping on each one. At the third one, he stopped. “Thank the gods, we’re in luck. Now if I can just get this plug out.”
There was a popping noise. Suddenly water gushed over Anna’s feet. “What—”
“Hurry,” he said. “Before it runs dry.”
He scooped up water and splashed it over his face. They took turns drinking handful after handful of that blessedly fresh, cool water. Water, Anna thought. The loveliest creation of the gods.
Andreas dropped to the deck and pulled her down next to him. The tap was above their heads, pouring over them like a waterfall. “Water,” he said. He was grinning.
“Water,” she said, wiping away the water streaming from her hair into her eyes.
“It’s wonderful,” he agreed. “And do you know what else we have?”
He fumbled at his sash. Then he handed her a leather flask, the same wine flask they’d drunk from at least a lifetime ago.
“How did they miss it?” she said.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Too busy kicking me, perhaps.”
They both drank, then leaned back against the cask. Koszenmarc pulled Anna close, so she lay tucked into the crook of his arm. Water dripped over them from the opened cask, like raindrops falling from leaves in a forest.
“Water,” Anna said. “And wine. The gods were listening.”
Abruptly the giddiness vanished. Tears burned in her eyes. She swiped them away.
“What’s wrong?” Andreas asked.
“The gods,” she said. “If they were listening, why did they let Druss murder Lija?”
He leaned against her and rested his cheek against hers. “I don’t know. What I think—if that matters—is that the gods don’t meddle unless they can’t avoid it. Instead they steer us, poor, ignorant, blind humans, to where and when and how we can do our best.”
“What if we don’t? Do our best, I mean.”
“Then they steer us again and again, throughout our lives, like stubborn goats, driven to pasture. We goats sometimes take six or ten or a hundred lives before we stop chewing on garbage and listen.”
“Goats,” Anna said. “We are like them, aren’t we?” She hesitated a long moment. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”
He buried his nose in her hair. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”
Lies make everything harder, Maté had said.
In a low voice, she said, “I never knew Brun had hired Sarrész. I swear it. But I knew about his plans for the princess.”
No reply to that abrupt declaration.
“I told myself it meant nothing,” she went on, in spite of that unnerving silence. “I convinced myself he would return the jewel, but even if the Emperor rewarded him, nothing else would happen. I didn’t even tell Maté at first. I—” Her voice caught. “I knew the truth, but I didn’t want to admit it, even to myself.”
He sighed. “What did you plan to do with the money?”
Once, she’d had a simple answer to that simple question. To buy two rooms, one for her bed and one for her books. Two rooms with locks and keys, so that no one could enter but herself. But if she were being honest, she wanted far more. She wanted to make her own way in the world. To discover the borders of herself, without any reference to another human being. But all those answers were the same, she realized.
“To be free,” she whispered.
“I believe I understand that.” He leaned back against the cask. “I’m sorry too. I can’t explain everything now, because certain secrets are not mine alone.”
“I understand,” she said.
He tilted his head to meet her gaze. “Do you? Anna—”
Andreas leaned close and kissed the corner of her mouth. Anna gave a soft exhalation of surprise, but when Andreas paused, she offered her own soft kiss in return. A nibble. A nip. Like small rats or tiny goats. The thought of tiny goats kissing made her giddy, and she laughed. That must have been the right reaction, because Andreas pressed another kiss on her lips. All thought of what was right or true or safe vanished from her thoughts. Anna hooked a hand around his neck and pulled him close for what seemed a lifetime and longer. When at last she drew back to catch her breath, he nearly toppled forward chasing after her mouth.
Andreas’s laugh was a ripple of sunlight in this dark hold. “You,” he said. “I’m so glad—”
Then they were locked in each other’s arms, kissing and touching, her hands running over his chest and arms and back, his tangling in her wet hair. A pause. A breath. Another kiss. They were both breathing fast.
The ship gave a sudden jerk, sending them sprawling onto the deck. “What is it?” Anna said. “A storm? A—”
A second crash rocked the ship. From overhead came the thunder of feet.
“I believe,” Andreas said, “that the Konstanze has found us.”
CHAPTER 19
Andreas rolled onto his knees. “Come, quick. We’ll add to the confusion.”
“What do you mean? Andreas—”
He held out a hand. “If I make my guess correctly, Druss’s people are all above decks, dealing with my crew. You and I can make a quick search for weapons. Swords, daggers, even a blunt staff will do. We can attack from behind and make trouble. Anything to make it easier for Eleni to take the ship.”
He spoke rapidly, as though the plan were unfolding before his eyes and he was simply reading the text. Perhaps that was always how it was with him. Plans, woven within plans, drawn up as quickly and easily as he breathed.
“Afraid?” he asked.
She ought to be. And yet her pulse thrummed with anticipation.
“I’m ready,” she said. “Let us join the battle.”
They made their way cautiously and silently across the hold to the ladder. Koszenmarc listened intently, then nodded. “Quiet enough, but I’ll scout ahead first. Wait for my signal. But first—”
He drew her into a tight embrace and kissed her. She smelled the wine on his breath, tasted the salt from his skin, a taste like the ocean and the islands.
“For luck,” he whispered.
“Because we might die?”
“No, because we might live.”
Laughter fluttered against her ribs. Anna pulled him into a second kiss, hard and fast. Andreas was grinning
, and so was she, as he swung around onto the ladder and swarmed up the rungs. A pause while he eased the hatch open. A longer and more anxious interval while he disappeared from sight.
Anna counted the moments, one for every beat of her heart. What if Druss had left a watch below? What if they had swiftly and silently knifed Koszenmarc? What if they waited for her to grow impatient and follow, before they did the same to her? She had just enough time to review all the spells she knew when at last his voice floated down from above. “All clear. Come with me.”
Always, she thought as she climbed the ladder.
The hammock berth was empty and shadowed, except where one open hatch admitted a spill of sunlight. Now Anna clearly heard the tramping of feet over the deck, the ring of sword against sword, and was that Karl’s roar that echoed from above?
Andreas touched her wrist, then pointed toward the port side of the hold. “Start from the hull,” he said softly. “Work toward the middle. I’ll do the same from the opposite side. Quick and quiet is the word. We don’t want Druss’s people to hear what we’re up to. And remember, it’s a weapon if you can bash someone over the head with it.”
She stifled a laugh. Andreas grinned and made his way across the hold to begin his own search. Anna did the same. It was slow work, and tedious. Druss’s crew had stashed their bags in careless heaps. The bags themselves were stuffed with the usual assortment of clothes, most of them worn and patched, but others clearly meant for shore leave. No swords, however. No convenient stash of weapons, unless you counted a few chipped and blunted daggers set aside for sharpening. Anna blew out a breath in exasperation. Even a broken stave would be useful.
She had just reached a collection of sea chests, which seemed promising, when Andreas caught up a heavy wooden pin. “Yes! A bit of luck at last. Anna—”
He had no time to complete that sentence. Two men dropped down through the upper hatch. For one brief moment, everyone froze. Then one man whipped out a knife from his belt and lunged for Andreas. The other, an enormous, thickset man, hefted an axe in one hand as he stalked toward Anna.
“You,” he said in a rasping voice. “You, I get first.”
He charged, the axe raised high. Anna’s mind went blank with terror. But the weeks and weeks of training with her tutors, then with Thea, took over.
Light exploded between her and her attacker. He stumbled, blinded and cursing. Anna fell to her hands and knees and scuttled to one side, half-blinded herself, but when she tried to dodge past the man, he dropped the axe and grabbed her by both arms.
“Gotcha,” he said.
“Not yet,” she breathed.
She pressed her hands against his chest and summoned the magic current, just as she had when she tried to bloody herself and Andreas to lure the rats, only this time, she didn’t hold back.
Ei rûf ane gôtter. Ane Lir unde Toc. Komen mir de bluot. Komen mir älliu de bluot.
The man’s neck swelled, and his face twisted in a strange agony. He gave a strangled gasp. His heart heaved against his ribs, sudden and hard. Then his neck burst open, and gouts of blood poured from his body.
A mighty crash, of ship against ship, sent her tumbling over the deck, locked in an embrace with the dead man. His fingers dug into her arms, frozen in death. Anna tried to break free but could not. They rolled over and over, arms and legs entangled, from one side of the hold to the other. When they fetched up at the opposite side, Anna found herself pressed up against his chest.
His skin was already cold. His eyes, veiled in blood, seemed to stare at her from the distance of a thousand lives. Anna swallowed hard, and with a mighty effort she wrenched herself free and scrambled to her feet, staring around wildly for Andreas.
Andreas had circled around until he’d put a row of hammocks between himself and the other man. Once or twice, the other man lunged forward, but Andreas fended off the attack. This could not go on much longer. How long before more of Druss’s crew appeared?
Her attacker had dropped the axe to grab her. Anna located it quickly amidst the chaos on the floor. “Andreas!” she called out.
Both men shifted their attention to her. Anna sent the axe spinning over the floor toward Andreas. Without a pause, Andreas flung the wooden pin hard at his opponent and snatched up the axe. The pin only distracted the other man a moment, but Andreas used that moment to close the gap between them.
The blade struck the man with an audible thunk. The man dropped into a bloody heap.
Anna gripped the nearest hammock. She was sticky with blood. Her legs felt like water, and a roaring in her head drowned out Andreas’s voice. Dimly she was aware of a renewed commotion from above. She was trying to tell Andreas that she could not fight anyone, not anymore, but he was pulling her to her feet and pointing toward the hatch.
“Ours,” she heard him say. “Look, Anna.”
A high excited voice broke through. “Captain! It is you!”
A girl swung down from the ladder. She was tall and wiry, her hair tied in braids that flew around her face. She gripped a sheathed sword in one hand, and she was grinning with excitement.
“Fighting’s over,” she announced. “We took prisoners. Eleni sent me below to find you and give you a sword.” She laughed. “As though you needed finding or a sword.”
“I’ll take that sword gladly,” he said. “Now get back and report that your captain is grateful for this rescue. Elise and I will follow in a moment.”
The girl tossed him the sword and scrambled back up the ladder. Koszenmarc fastened the sheath to his belt, then handed Anna the wine flask. “Drink. It helps with the shakes after a hard fight. We’ll get you cleaned up above decks.”
Her hands shook too much to hold the flask. Koszenmarc held it to her lips until she’d swallowed twice. The wine washed away the bitter taste in her mouth. Her trembling died away, but she still felt hollow inside.
He laid a hand on her shoulder. “You did well. You did what you had to.”
Her stomach heaved, but she held it under control. She could still feel the bitter cold of death on her skin. “I know. I still hated it.”
“So do I,” he said softly. “Let’s go on deck.”
Above, a river of blood reflected the noonday sun. Koszenmarc’s crew was hard at work, hauling up buckets of water. Saltwater sluiced the decks, sending the blood running over the deck and over the side. One of the men poured a bucket of water over Anna’s head to wash away the worst of the gore that clung to her. More of the crew were at work wrapping the bodies of the dead in sailcloth. The Konstanze remained close, and parties of sailors were crossing back and forth. Less than a mile away lay Vyros. Anna could tell at once this wasn’t the same inlet where she and Maté had first tracked down Sarrész. The shore here was a thin grey band of broken rocks, almost invisible between the high cliffs and the sea.
Andreas had already vanished into the chaos. Anna gripped the railing with both hands and breathed in a deep lungful of fresh air. The scent of blood hung in the air, mixed with salt tang and the stink of her own body from days locked in the hold.
“Elise! Godsdamn you and bless all the gods!”
Anna spun around to see Maté striding across the deck. An impossible weight lifted from her heart. “Maté!”
He paused only a moment, taking in her bloody clothes, then caught her in a breathless hug. “Elise, I worried— Are you—?”
“He knows,” she whispered. “Andreas, I mean. He knows about Brun. About us and who we are.”
Maté’s eyes widened. “And?”
“It’s fine,” she answered hurriedly. “He understands.”
His gaze sharpened. “Fine is not how I would phrase it. What does he understand? There must be more. Tell me—”
“I can’t. Not yet.”
He pressed his lips together, and he regarded her with a strange expression. “But you will. Soon?”<
br />
“As soon as I can.”
A sharp whistle interrupted them. “Make the prize ready,” Eleni called out. “We aren’t in safe harbor yet.” Her gaze caught on Anna’s. “You,” she said. “Go across to Konstanze. Thea wants you in sick bay. Now.”
It was like that first hectic arrival, when Andreas Koszenmarc had dropped her into a horde of strangers. Someone had strung ropes between the ships. Anna managed to clamber across without dropping into the water. One of the crew caught her by the arms, then held her steady until she found her bearings. As soon as she could, she scrambled down the nearest hatch.
The Konstanze’s sick bay was nearly empty, except for two patients. One of them was Berit, asleep in one hammock. The second was Nikolas Farakos, wrapped up in bandages and fretting over some dose Thea insisted on giving him.
“Elise!”
Nikolas tried to fling himself upright. Thea pressed both hands against his chest. “Stop it,” she said. “Unless you want to rattle the dice with Blind Toc. Gods-be-damned fool,” she muttered. “Even if I should be thankful you’re strong enough to cause trouble.”
Nikolas grumbled but didn’t attempt more. His face was pale, his eyes not entirely focused. Anna wanted to gather him into her arms, if for no other reason than that he lived.
Oh, but Thea. Thea’s face was drawn with fresh lines, and her eyes were shadowed with dark smudges, faint against her dusk-brown face. But before she could do more than frown, Thea folded Anna into a tight hug.
“You,” she said softly. “You lived and our captain too.”
Anna hugged her back and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.
“We made a search of the island,” Thea said at last. “We found that village. One of the children overheard Druss’s orders so we knew where to find you. Cheeky boy. He demanded six gold denariie before he would say anything. Eleni gave him fifty.”
Mihali. He lived. Good.
A Jewel Bright Sea Page 24