Appease

by Demelza Carlton

  "Where is the king?" the man demanded. "'Twas he who summoned me."

  Reidar didn't remember summoning anyone. He squinted at the man. There was something familiar about him, but Reidar could not place him.

  "Reidar!" the man cried, breaking into a smile. He strode across the trampled grass, heedless of the men who eyed him as he passed, and embraced Reidar. "Cousin, it is good to see you! Where is the king?"

  Bursts of laughter exploded around the fire. Though Reidar still didn't recognise him, this could only be one man.

  "Rudolf? I thought you'd sailed off the western edge of the world!"

  Rudolf grinned even more widely. "One day, maybe I will. But those islands...I can see why our people love them so much. Their men fight just as fiercely, but so differently! We'll never conquer them as long as they live. And the women...my God, the women..."

  "It's hardly fair to speak of women in a war camp where the only women are in our dreams," Reidar reproached him, forcing back the unbidden image of Sativa that had come to mind.

  Rudolf clapped his hands together. "That's right! I'm not the only man who missed out on a marriage. I got summoned back here before I could ask for her, and yours got handed over as the price for a dragon's head."

  "What?"

  Rudolf waved his hand airily. "That foreign princess you were betrothed to. When I left Portnahaven, every man who could lift a sword was talking about the dragon of Kasmirus, and how the king there had offered half his kingdom and one of his daughters as a bride to the man who could bring him the beast's head. Everyone thought I was leaving to do battle with the beast! They seemed quite disappointed when I said I was going home. Though after so long there, it feels like the Southern Isles are more a home to me than here. Has it always been this cold?"

  Reidar's heart clenched in his chest at the thought of some other man marrying Sativa, but he banished that foolish notion. "Boreslas would not break off a betrothal with me without telling me so first. He has other daughters, I am sure. He would not break an agreement with the king of Viken. Even now, my envoy is at his court, to bring me my bride."

  "King? So the rumours are true? Not just my father, but yours died, too?" Rudolf bowed his head. "I am sorry for your loss, cousin. Your father was a good king, and a wise one, too. Why else would he send me to the ends of the earth to learn warcraft from some foreign lord?" He laughed. "I can tell you tales of tactics their men use in battle that we would never think of. I would not have believed them, had I not seen it with my own eyes."

  "Battle tactics? But Mother said – " Reidar clamped his mouth shut, but it was too late. Even he knew it was a sign of weakness for a king to rely so heavily on his mother.

  "Is Aunt Regina still around? She will outlive us all, that battle axe will. I remember she caught me sitting on your father's throne once. She clouted me over the ear and gave me such a tongue lashing I couldn't open my mouth in her presence for a year. She said if she ever caught me sitting there again, she'd thrash my backside until I had nothing left to sit on!" Rudolf laughed as though it was all a joke to him.

  It had been no joke to Regina, Reidar knew. For after Reidar himself, Rudolf had the best blood claim to the throne. Was Rudolf a danger to him?

  Rudolf had been just a boy when he left, and now he was a man grown. A man Reidar did not know. But he needed to know him.

  If Rudolf was loyal and no risk, Reidar could leave an army in his capable hands to harry the border raiders, and finally win this war. If he wanted the throne...giving him an army would be tantamount to handing him the country and Reidar's own head in the bargain.

  "Tomorrow, we ride west, to where there are reports of a foreign force waiting to ambush us. In three days' time, we shall go into battle. Will you join us, cousin?" Reidar asked.

  "The Southern Isles may have softened me, but beneath it beats a Viken heart still!" Rudolf declared. "I will fight at your side like we did as boys."

  As boys, they had been closer than brothers. Reidar hoped that would still be the case, but it would be three days before he knew for sure.

  "Ale for my cousin! We must toast his return!" Reidar said. A cup was fetched and filled, which Reidar then presented to Rudolf.

  Rudolf took it, then managed to drop to one knee without spilling his ale. "Nay, a toast to my cousin, the new king of Viken. May his reign be long and filled with so many victories the bards forget to sing of anyone else!"

  The other men shouted and joined Rudolf's toast, before proceeding to offer him food and a place at the fire.

  Reidar hung back, observing all that passed. The only person in his thoughts was Rudolf, and whether he would prove to be his staunchest ally or his greatest enemy. Only time would tell.

  SEVENTEEN

  Cook shoved a covered bowl into Sativa's hands. "Here. Take the captain his dinner."

  Sativa almost dropped it in surprise. "The captain?"

  Cook made an exasperated sound. "Yes, Captain Zydrunas, the man who commands this ship and crew. He doesn't come and fetch his food like the rest of the men – we must take it to him. And tonight, we means you. I'm far too busy to wait on him."

  "Where do I take it?" Sativa asked. The captain was usually on deck, keeping his eye on everyone, but try as she might, Sativa could not remember ever seeing the man eat.

  "His cabin, of course. Knock on the door, and if there is no answer, leave it outside the door. And be quick about it, for the captain prefers his food hot."

  "Then if he does not answer, I should take it into his cabin, and leave it on the table," Sativa said thoughtfully. "For if he does not like his food cold, surely – "

  "Do not enter the captain's cabin," Cook interrupted. "No matter what you hear, or what you think. Either he will open the door and take the food from you, or you leave it outside. You hear me?"

  Sativa mumbled a resentful response. Even after weeks at sea, she still did not take orders gladly. Cook never seemed to care if she scowled, as long as she obeyed. The other men were not so happy about it, but the more she kept out of their way, the less they had to dislike.

  So she carefully carried the bowl down the ladder, trying to ignore the rumbling of her belly as she inhaled the savoury smell of the captain's dinner. When she finally found her way ashore, she would spend the first week eating everything in sight, she was sure of it. She'd even settle for some of the stuff she'd eaten aboard the Wydra, for that was at least food, and not the swill Cook served to this crew.

  But in the meantime, she made her way to the captain's cabin. This was where he kept Nekane. Perhaps she would answer the door and Sativa could tell her about her escape plan, so Nekane might be ready when the time came.

  Cradling the bowl in her arms, Sativa knocked on the door, then waited. And waited.

  Surely Nekane would come to the door. Where else could she be? Unless the captain had her pinned beneath him...Sativa swallowed. Last night she'd barely slept as the rhythmic pounding from the captain in this cabin above her hadn't stopped from dusk until dawn. Surely he couldn't be at it again now. Sativa might be a virgin, but even she knew men didn't last that long in bed. A man who could manage lovemaking for more than a few minutes was a miracle by most standards, and Captain Zydrunas did not seem the type to be blessed by angels. Sold his soul to the devil, more like.

  She knocked again, louder this time. Perhaps the captain had not heard her over the noises he was making.

  But she received no response this time, either.

  Perhaps if she brought the man his dinner, he might leave Nekane alone for a little while, Sativa told herself. She could say she'd heard him tell her to enter.

  She pushed against the door, but it didn't budge. She set her shoulder against it, and shoved harder. Still nothing. It wasn't until she looked down that she saw the bolt, fastening the door shut from the outside. Nekane couldn't answer the door because she couldn't get out, Sativa realised. No wonder she hadn't seen the other woman since they'd boarded the ship. She was a prisone
r in the captain's cabin.

  Sativa reached down to pull the bolt open.

  "What in the devil's name are you doing, boy?" a voice roared.

  Sativa jumped, barely managing to keep her grip on the bowl. "Bringing you your dinner, sir," she said, shrinking against the wall to put more space between her and the captain. In these close confines, he seemed bigger than ever.

  He snatched the bowl out of her hands. "I'll take that. And you are never to enter my cabin, you understand? Never. It's forbidden."

  "But what about the lady?" Sativa said before she could stop herself.

  The captain's face loomed so close she could see the individual strands of his blue-black beard. "What about the lady, boy?" He spat the last word as though it was some sort of epithet.

  Sativa swallowed. She had to say something. "Maybe she'd like a bit of company. It must be lonely in there by herself all day," she managed to say.

  Captain Zydrunas snorted. "Never you mind about the lady, boy. She has all the company she'll ever need from me."

  He unbolted the door, opened it just wide enough to let him through, and vanished into the cabin, slamming the door shut behind him.

  Sativa craned her neck, straining to see, but there was nothing but darkness before the door closed the view off for good. But it also meant she was out of the captain's sight. She clenched her fists, swearing she would find a way off this ship. The captain could not always be near his cabin. One day, she'd find a way to sneak in and speak to Nekane. One day, they'd both be free.

  EIGHTEEN

  Steel rang against steel as Reidar blocked another blow with his sword. And another, and another. Loath though he was to admit it, the slight man before him was too fast for him. His blows lacked Reidar's strength, or perhaps he was just holding back, hoping to tire Reidar enough to win. Reidar could not let that happen.

  But not even a king is infallible, he realised as something stung his side. Reidar knew better than to look down to investigate the wound, for if it did not kill him, then the next blow would, if he did not block it. With a roared oath, he renewed his attack, praying his foe would fall before he did. The trickle of blood down his side told him time was of the essence now.

  "Protect the king!" a voice bellowed.

  Reidar lifted his shield to take the next blow, but the man's axe met steel instead. His eyes widened in surprise, meeting Reidar's gaze. So Reidar saw his eyes glaze over as the second sword withdrew from the man's throat, turning a live enemy into a dead one.

  "Thank you," Reidar said shakily.

  Rudolf lifted his bloody sword in salute. "Any time, my king." He turned away to fight another foe.

  Hours or maybe minutes later, Reidar could not be sure, he called the end of the battle. There were few left alive from the raiding party, and his own men had wounds that needed tending.

  The slice to his side had done little more than scrape the skin, Reidar was happy to discover, so once his wound was washed and bandaged, he had time to walk around their camp and speak to his men. Rudolf's steel helm had been so dented in the battle it took two men to pull it off his head, only to find his face covered in blood from a broken nose.

  While one of the men cleaned up Rudolf's face, amid a lot of swearing from the patient, Reidar approached him. He dismissed the healer and tended Rudolf himself so that he might speak with the man privately.

  "Why did you do that? Call the men to me during the battle?" Reidar asked.

  Rudolf shrugged, then swore as the movement pained him. "Because it's a man's duty to protect his king. We're yours to command. There's no doubt in anyone's mind that you can fight as well as any man here, and none of us question your right to rule. But if you fall in battle, I'll have to sit on your seat, and Aunt Regina will never forgive me."

  "What, you don't want a crown, cousin?" Reidar forced out a laugh to make the question sound more flippant than it was.

  Rudolf smiled, or grimaced – it was hard to tell. "Right now, I want nothing on my head at all. My ears are still ringing from the blow to my helm. I would much rather a cup of ale than a crown."

  Reidar wasn't sure if this was a jest or not. It certainly wasn't an answer. Nevertheless, he called for ale for his cousin.

  Rudolf seized Reidar's arm and pulled him close so that no one might hear his words. "If you die without an heir, your crown falls to me anyway. We both know this. Go back to your castle, get yourself a bride, and put a boy in her belly. Several, if you can. Let me lead the army in your stead."

  Reidar met Rudolf's blackened and bloodshot eyes. There was truth in them, he was sure of it. But something hidden, too. "To what end, cousin? You have a plan, I am sure of it."

  "All men plan, but not all plans bear fruit. Rest assured, mine do not need you to die here on a battlefield like my father and yours. I want this kingdom secure as much as you do. These raiders and would-be usurpers must die!" Rudolf shook his fist in the direction the surviving raiders had retreated.

  Something in Rudolf's voice urged Reidar to trust him. Maybe not completely, but for now. Reidar nodded slowly. "Very well. Will the men follow you?"

  Rudolf laughed. "They did today. They're loyal men who serve their king. Why would they not?"

  Reidar had to admit his cousin was right. And, if his count was correct, his envoy should have brought Sativa to Viken by now. At this very moment, she could be waiting for him in the very tower he'd built for her.

  "Tonight we toast our victory, and tomorrow I shall return," Reidar said.

  Rudolf winked. "Share a drink with your wife at your wedding feast, cousin, for I doubt this war will be over by then, and I wouldn't want you to delay on my account. We'll drink your health when we hear of it."

  "I'll send a cask of ale from my cellars. The very best," Reidar promised. And he would. When he had Sativa safely in his arms, he would want the whole kingdom to celebrate.

  NINETEEN

  Sativa hugged the mast as she did the one part of her job she actually liked – keeping watch. Captain Zydrunas' Barbe had a sort of man-sized bucket built at the top of the mast for the lookout, and Sativa would stay there all day, if she could.

  It also meant she'd be the first to spot... "Land!" she cried, pointing. It looked like a just a shadow on the horizon, but it was growing larger, and she was sure...

  "Check and see if the boy is right," Captain Zydrunas ordered.

  Sativa's face grew hot. Last time she'd thought she'd spotted land, it had been a bank of storm clouds. They'd steered well away from them, but the waves had been big enough for her to realise why the lookout had what the crew called a crow's nest: when the ship canted from one side to the other, it was easy for a lookout to fall into the sea and be lost, like the last cabin boy. Sativa had hung on with all her strength and stayed aboard. But today, she was sure she was right. And if she was, it would soon be time to go.

  One of the younger men, barely older than Sativa herself, scaled the mast and peered in the direction she'd pointed. "The boy's right!" he shouted.

  She was nameless to them, and she'd resolved they'd remain nameless to her, too. Pirate scum such as these did not deserve to be remembered. The moment she arrived on land, she would do her best to forget everything about them.

  "That's the coast of Viken. You can see the Sea Tower on the cliff!"

  Sativa stared across the sea, hungry for a glimpse of it. Was this the tower Reidar had promised to build for her?

  But no matter how long she looked, she couldn't see it. Perhaps when they got closer.

  The captain gave orders to make for Viken, and Sativa was ready to dance for joy. Perhaps she wouldn't need to steal a boat at all. Instead, she could simply walk ashore once they docked and vanish into the town. Once she was in Reidar's kingdom, surely his people would help her find him.

  By the time the sun sank beneath the western waves, they were no closer to the shadowy land Sativa couldn't wait to call home, and she sank into her hammock distinctly dissatisfied.

&n
bsp; Morning brought a renewal of hope, as she started to discern the shapes of trees and then buildings upon the shore.

  "Search for somewhere we can go ashore for water," the captain directed. "We're running low."

  They weren't headed for a port after all, Sativa realised with a sinking heart. Then she would have to make a run for it when she found the opportunity. When they went ashore for water, perhaps, or at night, if no suitable stream was found.

  All day they watched, sailing so close to shore Sativa could count the sheep and cows on the cliffs. Alas, the streams they did find were too hard to reach, and so they sailed on. More than once, she'd been tempted to dive from the bow and swim ashore, but she knew she would not succeed with everyone watching the shore so closely. So many men, bigger and stronger than she was, could surely swim faster, too, and they would haul her back to be punished.

  She'd seen some of the punishments aboard the Barbe – men's backs whipped to jelly for drinking more than their share of ale, or stealing food from the captain's stores. If the captain knew how much she'd stashed away for her escape...Sativa shuddered. That was why she kept her supplies hidden, where no one could be certain who they belonged to.

  Supplies she would need to retrieve tonight, before she left the ship forever.

  When Cook sent her to the hold for dinner ingredients, she knew this would be her best chance to empty her cache. The dried sausages she stuck down her hose, where they'd be hidden under her tunic. She'd lost weight while working on the ship, so her tunic hung looser than it should. That would work in her favour tonight, though, for if she cinched her belt tight around her waist, she could tuck the wineskin down the front of her tunic and no one would be any the wiser. A small, cloth-wrapped cheese made up the rest of her supplies, which were already heavier than she was used to. Sativa was tempted to leave the wine, but unless she could replace it with coin, it might be the only thing of value she could trade when she got ashore. So, the wine stayed, curved against her belly as the leather warmed until it felt like part of her own skin.