The Shewstone

by Jane Fletcher

  “Who’s in charge now?”

  “The harbour master and the merchant’s guild are running the docks. It’s not so clear cut in the rest of town.”

  Matt would have guessed as much. “Any idea what’s going to happen next?”

  “Some are talking about sending reinforcements to Cyningesburg. But I don’t think it’ll happen. Most want things to go back to normal and hang any red-haired bastard who comes within fifty miles.”

  Which was not good news for red-haired bastards. The town was definitely unsafe for Eawynn. The only good thing was that selling the horses would not be an issue. The money would come in useful—money always did—although they were well enough off for the moment. The gold coins in the purse Eawynn had taken from the dead gang leader would cover passage to Fortaine and more. Matt smiled at the thought. It had needed an ex-priestess to think of searching the body. I must have been right off my game.

  The docks were less edgy than the main town. The business of trade was going on, unhampered. Possibly the number of ships in harbour was fewer than before, but not by much. Armed guards were highly visible, all wearing the badge of the merchants’ guild, and looking far more alert than the militia on the gates. The harbour master’s pennant hung outside what had been the portgerefan office.

  Matt strolled along the quay. She could sense the tension, running below the surface, but already it felt more like home. Matt found the dock handler leaning against a wall with a clear view of the harbour master’s door.

  She took a spot beside him. “Hello again.”

  Fish Eye Ellis smiled in reply.

  “How’s business?”

  “Getting better. You?”

  “Sorted. Now, I need to go home.”

  “That would be Fortaine.”

  “Yes. Do you know who’s bound there?”

  “There’s a few.” Ellis waited until two stout merchants and their bodyguard had waddled by before continuing. “What’s your main concern, speed, cost, or silence?”

  “Silence.”

  “Try the Song of Kalika. She’s berthed on the east quay. Due to sail early evening. Captain’s called Leandros. He’s a good man at minding his own business and he runs a quiet ship.”

  “Thanks.” Matt had a coin ready. She then held up another. “There’s something else I’d like.”

  “Anything along the lines of your last purchase?”

  “No. Hair dye.”

  Ellis’s face remained deadpan. “Dark enough to turn red hair black?”

  “That’d be perfect.”

  “There’s been a lot of demand for it recently.”

  “Really?”

  “That’s fashion for you. One day everyone wants red hair. The next day it’s black.” His tone was dryly ironic.

  “Any shortage of supply?”

  “Not if you know who to ask.”

  Matt grinned. Fish Eye Ellis would know who to ask, if anyone did. “It wouldn’t hurt if it could do something about pale skin as well.”

  *

  From out at sea, the port of Sideamuda looked unchanged since the first time Eawynn had seen it, but although the view was the same, the sight provoked very different emotions. Back then she had been eager to visit her ancestral homeland. It was good in parts. Eawynn wrinkled her nose. A shame those parts were so rare. Her Rihtcynn blood might not be anything to brag about, but she still preferred it inside her rather than outside.

  Eawynn wrinkled her nose again experimentally. The dye made her skin feel odd. She must ask Matt how long it would take to wear off. She stayed on the foredeck, watching and thinking, while Sideamuda shrunk to an indistinct jumble on the coast

  Matt joined her. “I’ve been sorting out beds and stuff. Do you want to come and look?”

  “I take it we don’t have a cabin?”

  “Nope. Leandros seems a decent captain, but he doesn’t owe any favours.” She directed Eawynn to a hatch in the deck. A ladder led down into the gloom. “We’re in the forward hold. Afraid it isn’t as fancy as the Blue Puffin.”

  The words sounded ominous. Unduly so, to Eawynn’s mind, once she reached the bottom of the steps. The hold was easily five times the size of their previous accommodation and less than half full, allowing them more space.

  “Why’s it so empty? Will they be taking on more cargo later?”

  “As I understand it, the main hold is carrying iron ingots for tax purposes. The ship’s got all the weight it can handle.”

  “Why would you carry ingots for tax purposes?”

  “Tax purposes as in, some of the ingots look a lot like swords.”

  “They’re smugglers.”

  “Who are they hurting?”

  “The honest traders who have to pay extra taxes to make up the difference.”

  “Leandros isn’t forcing anyone else to be honest.”

  “If nobody pays taxes, there’ll be no money to maintain the harbours. Then what would he do?”

  Matt grinned. “I still think you’re being harsh. So he’s smuggling out a hold full of swords and a Rihtcynn fugitive with her hair dyed black. If he was going to own up about one, you can’t expect him to keep quiet about the other. You can’t have it both ways.”

  She has a point. Eawynn sighed and let the matter drop. She looked around the hold. A row of barrels were braced along the one flat wall, while sacks where stacked against the curved sides of the ship and held in place by netting. A sweet, spicy scent came from the barrels, cloves and ginger at a guess. Their bags were piled in the middle of the floor, and on either side was a low bed, covered in blankets. Eawynn pressed down on one. Her hand disappeared up to her wrist. It was extremely soft.

  Matt pointed to the sacks. “They’re bales of wool. I’ve been arranging them. As beds go, they might be a bit on the bouncy side, but better than the floor.”

  “We’ve got the hold to ourselves?”

  “Yes. The crew have hammocks in the stern. We don’t have a porthole, but we can open the hatch in good weather, and there’s a hook for a lantern.”

  “It’ll do.”

  Eawynn climbed back on deck. A stiff breeze filled the sails, and seagulls swooped and wheeled over the ship’s wake. They stood together at the stern and watched the land slip over the horizon.

  “Are you sorry to see it go?” Matt asked.

  “In some ways.”

  “Looking forward to getting home?”

  Where is my home? “In some ways.”

  “You’ll be taking the Shewstone to the temple.”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to go back to being a priestess.”

  “When did you decide that?”

  “Some time ago.”

  “You didn’t…” Matt shrugged. “Guess I don’t blame you. What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You could sell the Shewstone. It’s yours, you know. I want no part of it.”

  “I don’t either.”

  “You’re not going to toss it overboard?”

  “No. I might see if I can free the sylph. I assume Oswald was right about one being imprisoned inside.”

  Matt looked surprised. “Haven’t you had enough of supernatural beings?”

  “Sylphs are safe. They’re spirits of the ether who don’t normally pay any attention to humans. But as Oswald said, they’re notoriously helpful when they do.”

  “If you believe the stories.”

  “The stories were right about demons.”

  “Oh well, the Song of Kalika is making a straight run for Fortaine, but we still won’t make landfall for over half a month, depending on the wind. You’ve got time to think it through.”

  “Maybe there’ll be something in Ceolwulf’s book. I started on it when I was waiting in the barn, but I haven’t had another chance to read.”

  “You got your chance now. There won’t be much—” Matt looked annoyed.

  “What is it?”

 
; “I’m starting to feel sick.”

  *

  Matt woke up from her first decent sleep since boarding the ship and felt all right. It was like a magic trick. Two and a half days of hell, and then overnight, her stomach gave up the attempt to swim back to shore without her. She lay on her improvised bed a while longer, looking at the roof and enjoying the sensation of not being ill. Her stomach then began a different complaint. It was empty. She rolled out of bed and pulled on her shirt and pants but left her boots behind. Barefoot would be fine on the sun-warmed deck.

  The morning was well advanced when Matt clambered from the hatch. Captain Leandros hailed her from the tiller. “Got your sea legs now?”

  “I hope so.”

  Leandros chuckled. He had found Matt’s seasickness highly amusing, and it would seem the joke was not yet over. The Song of Kalika was smaller than the Blue Puffin, with a four-man crew. Only one other sailor was visible, up in the rigging. Eawynn sat on the foredeck, her book open on her lap. If she noticed Matt, she gave no sign.

  The ship’s galley was empty, breakfast long past. Matt helped herself to leftover porridge. She washed, using buckets of sea water, then went back to the hold and put on fresh clothes. Her hair was thick with salt, but she no longer smelt like a woman who has spent days hurling her guts up. By the time Matt returned to the deck, she felt almost human again.

  What should she do now? On the previous voyage, she and Eawynn had kept as far apart as possible, but at that time, they could not spend two minutes together without arguing. They were getting along much better now. Did Matt want to push her luck? She could go and sit on the foredeck with Eawynn. They did not have to talk. Then a yawn caught Matt by surprise. Alternately, she could find somewhere sheltered and sunny for a nap and move to the foredeck later. Maybe by then Eawynn would like a break from her book.

  Matt dozed on and off for the next few hours, until a thin cloud cover blew over and the sun went in. Hot food was only prepared at dawn and dusk. So Matt grabbed bread and salt pork for lunch and went to join Eawynn. She promised herself she would leave as soon as the conversation started to go sour. However, Eawynn and her book were no longer on the foredeck

  “She went below, a while back,” a sailor volunteered.

  “Did she seem all right?”

  “A bit unhappy, but that was all.”

  Matt leaned on the railing and chewed the last of the pork while wondering whether she ought to go find Eawynn. Could they become friends? Or would Eawynn work with her only when their lives were at stake? What was the worst possible outcome if she went down to the hold? Even without working out a full answer to that question, Matt felt her lungs grow tight. What have you got to be frightened of? Matt slapped her hand on the railing, hard enough to hurt. She was seriously losing patience with herself.

  Matt crouched by the hatch and peered in, but it was too dark to see. “Eawynn?”

  The lack of reply tipped her hand. Maybe Eawynn was unwell, or worse. Matt hopped down the ladder. Once her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she saw Eawynn sitting on a bed. The closed book lay on the floor by her feet.

  “Eawynn, are you all right?”

  “Not really.”

  Matt knelt beside her. “What is it?”

  “The sylph.”

  By now, Matt’s vision was strong enough to see tears forming in Eawynn’s eyes. “What about it?”

  “In the book. It’s awful. I didn’t know. I don’t think any of us did.”

  “Know what? You’re not making sense.”

  Eawynn rubbed her eyes. “Sylphs are simple spirits of the air. They just play and enjoy life. They’re harmless. Like children.”

  “If children didn’t do things like pulling legs off spiders?”

  “Yes. No. I mean, yes.” Eawynn shook her head. “They aren’t malicious. They’d never hurt anyone.”

  Matt said nothing. Her previous remark had only caused confusion, and Eawynn clearly did not need any more of that.

  “They’re innocent spirits.”

  “You’re saying it’s safe to free it. What’s the problem?”

  “Lots. It has to be done carefully, with the right words, and in the right place.”

  Matt frowned. “Ceolwulf and Oswald were just going to smash the Shewstone open for the demon.”

  “That would have harmed the sylph. Which was why Iparikani would be able to consume it so easily. Normally, sylphs are nimble enough to escape. To be certain it’s not injured, the Shewstone has to be opened in the exact same spot as where the sylph was first captured.”

  “In Cyningesburg?”

  “No. Fortaine, at the Temple of Anberith. It happened during the last years of the empire. The Sister Oracle of the day tricked the sylph and sealed it in the orb. She was part of an underground Rihtcynn cult. They were evil.” Eawynn buried her face in her hands.

  Rihtcynn being evil. Now there’s a surprise. “That was in the past.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  I won’t unless you tell me. “What?”

  “The sylph is a prisoner inside the Shewstone. I don’t think it can really foretell the future, but the old cult thought it could. When it wouldn’t tell them anything, they used to torture it to make it speak. That became part of the ritual, and I used to do it. I lit a flame under the Shewstone and it made a noise. That was the sylph screaming.”

  Matt put a hand on Eawynn’s leg. “You didn’t know what you were doing, else you wouldn’t have done it. It’s the people who told you who are to blame.”

  “I don’t think Insightful Sister Oracle understood. She was just copying what the priestess before her did.”

  I wouldn’t rule it out. “It doesn’t matter. You’re innocent.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  Matt shifted around to sit on the bed beside Eawynn. “Then make what amends you can. Free the sylph.”

  “But how? They won’t let me set foot in the temple.”

  “We’ll find a way.”

  “We? You’d help me?”

  “Of course.

  “Why?”

  Because I’m dangerously close to falling in love with you, and I like beating myself up. “I feel I owe you.”

  “You saved my life.”

  “If I hadn’t stolen the Shewstone, you’d have been safely in Fortaine all along.”

  “Then I’m indebted to you, twice over. I was miserable in the temple. Once I got over my panic at the big wide world, there was no way I wanted to go back. And I’d still be taking part in torturing the sylph.”

  “So why did you stick with me? Carry on after the Shewstone?”

  “I couldn’t desert you.”

  “Why not? You’ve every reason to hate me.”

  “True. I got over it.”

  How much over? “I saw the marks on your back. You were flogged because of me.”

  “They wanted me gone. They’d have found another excuse. If not the key, then because someone said I dropped litter. That wasn’t why I hated you.”

  Matt swallowed and dropped her gaze. They were both suffering with regrets for things done in ignorance, but her mistakes were far less forgivable. Nobody had told her to do it. Matt could not claim she had not known exactly what she was about. Yet she had not understood the consequences. She had thought flirting with Eawynn was a game, but it was actually one of the most serious things she had done in her life.

  “I never meant to hurt you.”

  “But you did. Mostly my pride. You made a fool of me. Or you tricked me into making a juvenile fool of myself. I thought you were genuinely interested in me, when you were only after the Shewstone.”

  “No. I mean, I was only in the temple for the stone, but there were all sorts of ways I could have gone about stealing it. Flirting with you was the most fun option.” Matt stopped. Probably she could have phrased that better.

  “It was a game to you.”

  “Flirting always was. It didn’t mean I wasn’t gambling with my heart.”<
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  “You were betting your heart on me?” Eawynn sounded sceptical.

  “More than I knew.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yes.”

  Eawynn turned her head. Matt found herself staring back. Her heart started to thump in her chest. The words could not be held back. “The day I met you, I thought you were one of the most attractive women I’d seen. Flirting with you was a game. I admit it. And I thought I was winning. Only since we’ve been travelling together I find that I’ve lost. With each day, I’ve become a little more lost. If we hadn’t been bogged down with mundane things, like hiding from demons and running for our lives, I’d have gone crazy. And now I’m looking at days, stuck on this small boat with you, and I don’t know how I’m going to cope.”

  Eawynn was silent for such a long time, Matt was giving up on a reply, but at least Eawynn was not running away. Eventually, she said, “If I kiss you again, and you steal something off my belt, I’m going to pitch you overboard.”

  “Do you think you might kiss me again?”

  Instead of answering, Eawynn leaned closer and pressed her mouth against Matt’s.

  Eawynn’s lips were soft and warm. Her body filled Matt’s arms, firm and so very solid. A surge of desire ripped through Matt, from her toes to the tips of her hair, only to be washed away in something richer, deeper, and far more soul-searing. She slid down onto the blanket, pulling Eawynn with her.

  They lay together on the wool sack bed, still fully dressed, exploring the texture of hands and faces, the soft and hard, the muscle and bone felt through cloth. After months of waiting, Matt could take her time and let Eawynn set the pace.

  “I want more. I want to feel your skin against mine,” Eawynn mumbled between kisses.

  Matt sat and pulled her shirt over her head. Item by item, they shed their clothes. Eawynn’s breasts were fuller than Matt had expected. She cupped one in her hand, entranced by the strips of pale white skin showing between her fingers. Eawynn’s areolas were dark, the same colour as her lips. Matt sucked on both nipples in turn, feeling them harden under her tongue. Eawynn moaned, then reached under Matt’s arms and pulled her up into another hard embrace.