Appease

by Demelza Carlton

  She collected what Cook had asked for and lugged the lot up the ladder to the galley, where she could hear the captain roaring accusations at his crew.

  He'd discovered the missing sausages, Sativa realised with a sinking heart. And he intended to keep haranguing them until the culprit came forward, when they'd all have to watch his punishment. Sativa muttered, "I shall be back. I think I dropped something," to Cook before she fled below decks.

  Instinct told her to run and hide, but Sativa ignored it. She would run, yes, but not to somewhere aboard the Barbe. No, it was time to go, and now would be the best time to smuggle Nekane out of the captain's cabin, while he was busy.

  Remembering the darkness last time, she took a lantern with her to the cabin. She set it on the floor as she worked the bolt open, then pushed open the door.

  If the captain knew she was here...she didn't know what he would do. But by the time he found out, she and Nekane would be well away.

  She stepped inside the room, holding her breath as she edged around the furnishings she could barely discern in the dim light filtering through the partially open door. "Nekane?" she whispered.

  No answer.

  What she really needed was the lantern that she'd left outside.

  Swearing inwardly at her own stupidity, Sativa turned to retrieve it.

  Just in time to see the door click shut, enveloping her in darkness.

  TWENTY

  "Where is she? Spit it out, man!" Reidar said.

  Sir Edwin ducked his head. "I cannot say, Your Majesty. Nor can King Boreslas, her father. I went to Kasmirus, as you commanded, and told him I was there to escort your bride home to you. For a week, he treated me as an honoured guest, holding feasts and hunting parties, while I waited for him to produce the girl. It wasn't he who told me, but some of his courtiers, that the girl was missing. She'd disappeared on the night of the huge celebration they held for the defeat of their dragon. The king sent men all over the kingdom, looking for her, but they've found nothing. She just disappeared." He looked like he wanted to continue, but closed his mouth.

  Reidar was having none of it. "What are you not telling me, Edwin?"

  Edwin seemed to struggle for a moment, before he relented. "There were tales, each more fantastical than the last. Some said they'd seen the princess marry the dragonslayer, some lord or other. But he's married to some lady from Queen Margareta's court, so that cannot be true. Others say her fairy godmother whisked her away, but no one has seen a fairy godmother in the city since the girl's christening. Some say she was kidnapped, but no one saw anything. The girl has lived all her life within the castle walls – sheltered, cared for, wanting for nothing. She had no reason to run away, and yet that is the excuse the king himself gave when he finally admitted she was gone. That or she was kidnapped."

  The girl he'd known would not have run away from anything. Yet how could a girl be kidnapped from her own castle without anyone seeing it happen? "Someone must have seen something," Reidar growled. He leaped to his feet and prowled behind his seat, unable to sit still.

  "Perhaps they did, Your Majesty, but you must understand..." Edwin coughed. "The whole city was drunk, sire. Celebrating. They had lived in terror of the dragon for years. It devoured all of the king's other daughters. Terrorised the countryside. And then a man brought the king the beast's head. Wine and ale ran like water that night. No one remembers what they did, let alone anyone else. They are not so different from us, truly. It was like one of our grandest victory feasts. The dragon could have come back to life and whisked away the princess, and no one would have noticed a thing!"

  Reidar would like to think his men would have lifted their swords to defend the girl, no matter how much ale they'd consumed. "Someone has seen her, and someone must know where she is," he said, slowing his pacing. "Offer a reward for information about her whereabouts. More if they can bring her here safely. Unharmed."

  Edwin raised despairing eyes to meet Reidar's gaze. "Her father already has. He has heard nothing. He fears she may be dead, like her sisters."

  No. Reidar would not believe it. His bride was alive, and she would be found. "Find her, Edwin," he said finally. "Take what ships you need, and scour the coast. Bring her to me alive, and I will shower you in riches. And if she is not..." He swallowed, not wanting to allow the thought into his head. "If she no longer lives, bring me what remains of her body. I will still reward you, but it will be with a heavy heart."

  "And if I cannot? What if the girl's body lies in the depths of the sea, or in the belly of some beast? Or what if she does not wish to be found?"

  Reidar sighed, suddenly tired. "Just find her, Edwin." What sort of madness had infected the man? Of course she wanted to be found.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Sativa's breath caught in her throat. Perhaps someone had seen the door open, and simply pushed it shut. She would have heard if someone had come in, because if anyone found her...

  Light burst upon her, an unshuttered lantern that to her dark-adjusted eyes appeared brighter than the sun.

  "They say there is a hell made for the inquisitive, and they surely have a place for you, girl," a male voice said.

  Sativa blinked away her blindness, then wished she hadn't. Captain Zydrunas stood before the closed door, holding her lantern high.

  "The door was open, and I went to close it, but it smelled musty in here, so I thought I might tidy the place a little..." Sativa began, then trailed off. There was an unpleasant smell in the cabin. Not musty so much as rotten. Like decaying meat.

  "What part of forbidden do you not understand?" the captain asked.

  Sativa reddened. "I heard a woman call for help, sir, and my father told me an honourable man should help a lady in need."

  The captain laughed. "You are a terrible liar, but it does not matter."

  Sativa refused to back down. "I did hear a woman call for help." Not tonight, but before. Why was Nekane so silent now?

  "You did not, but before this night is over, you will," the captain said, his teeth gleaming in the lamplight.

  Sativa's thoughts raced. If she could get the captain away from the door, then perhaps she could get out, run up the ladder, and dive over the side into the water. She could swim to shore. She just had to make it to the water. And get the captain to move. "Then let her speak now."

  Sativa hoped he would cross the room and reveal where he'd hidden Nekane. She must be gagged or unconscious, to be so silent. Sativa wouldn't be silent if there was even a slim chance of there being help at hand.

  "You mean the lady from your ship? She will never speak again." The captain extended his arm and pointed.

  Sativa glanced at the bunk. For a moment, she did not understand what she saw in the grey shadows. Then she realised what she saw was no shadow, lying upon the red coverlet, but a corpse. Naked and bloated, Nekane's skin had turned grey.

  Sativa fought the bile rising up in her throat. This was the source of the smell. She'd been dead for days. A week or more, surely. A week in which the captain had...had...

  The bile won.

  TWENTY-TWO

  "Your mother still hates me," Rudolf announced as he strode into Reidar's solar.

  Reidar set down his quill. "What are you doing here? Isn't there a war you're supposed to be fighting?"

  Rudolf shrugged, then stretched out on the bench beneath the window, sitting in the only patch of sun. The cat whose seat he'd usurped hissed at him, then trotted off.

  "It seems word has spread among your neighbours that your throne is not worth the price they will pay to get it. That, or they are running out of men to send against us. The last two war bands we encountered took to their heels and ran away. Like rabbits!" He laughed.

  "That still doesn't answer my question. Why are you here?"

  "Your men can chase rabbits for a few days without me. I came to find out why you didn't send the ale you promised. Did the wedding guests drink it all, or did you just forget about us?" Rudolf sat up and peered
into the corners of the room. "And where is your lovely bride? Or has she locked herself in her room, terrified after spending her wedding night with your mighty cock?"

  Bawdy jokes about Sativa sat ill with Reidar. "She has not yet arrived."

  Rudolf only laughed harder. "So she's heard tales about your cock and fled in fear before you can stick it in her?"

  Reidar reddened. "I do not know what she's heard. I haven't seen her since she was a child. Do not jest about my bride, cousin. I warn you." Doubt gnawed at him for the first time. Crudity aside, had she heard something about him that would make her not want the marriage any more? Not want him?

  "Consider me warned. You used to like jokes, Reidar. Has kingship turned you so serious that you can no longer laugh?" Concern wrinkled Rudolf's brow, all traces of humour gone.

  "Not about Sativa, no. She has disappeared from her father's court, and no one has seen her since. He's sent search parties. I've sent search parties. I've even offered a reward for her safe return. She has simply vanished, as though some foul sorcery is at work betwixt her kingdom and mine." Reidar released a weighty sigh. "And while I worry for her wellbeing, my mother reminds me hourly that I need an heir. I think she has paraded every highborn girl in the kingdom before me, and quite a few not so highborn, too. More than anything, she wants me to wed. The longer Sativa is missing, the more I begin to think she might be right. Maybe I need an heir more than an alliance with Boreslas."

  "Kings break betrothals every day, and alliances, too. What is so special about this girl that you cannot?"

  Reidar eyed his cousin. Would the man think him weak if he confessed the truth? No one else knew. Time to test his cousin's loyalty. "In truth, I do not know. I made promises as a child, and so did she. I am loath to break my word, for what honour is there in that? I might not have seen her in years, but I have dreamed of her more nights than I can count. Not the child I knew then, but as though I watched her. She learned to ride like she was born to the saddle, and hunted with her father's court before she could lift a bow. She never made a kill, but she loved the chase. She would teach her sisters, teaching them to write so they might manage kingdoms of their own, when they were queens in their own right. And lately, I have dreamed of her flying through the air at a great height. Ships below her, or sometimes the sea. She's not an angel, but...it's like nothing I can explain. I know she lives, and she is coming to me. For weeks I have known this, and still she is not here!"

  Rudolf nodded slowly. "There is some magic at work, then. A bond between you that perhaps only death can break. Tell me, what does this girl of yours look like?"

  "As fair as the sun," Reidar replied. "No matter how many other girls my mother places before me, the only face I see is hers. A face I do not know!"

  "You have it bad, cousin. I hope she is worth the wait. And, in a similar vein, I have a confession to make, too."

  Reidar raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

  Rudolf's smile was rueful. "Will you ever release me to return to the Southern Isles?"

  "You don't want to be king?" Reidar blurted out.

  Rudolf laughed softly. "I never said that. I asked if you would let me go home."

  Reidar wasn't sure what to say. "But you are my heir. Until I have a son, that is. And there is this war..."

  "The war will never be over, but your neighbours will learn, and so will your own men. There are leaders among them, and they are loyal to you. There will come a time when you don't need me. You will choose a bride – whether your betrothed or some other girl – and there will be children to take your place. When that time comes, I ask you to let me return home."

  There was no laughter in Rudolf's eyes now. Only pain.

  "Why?" Reidar asked hoarsely.

  "Like you, I dream of a girl. A woman, now. I made promises, which I intend to keep." Rudolf smiled sadly. "Oh, not like you. There is no betrothal between us. But yours is not the only war – and other kings have seen the richness of the Southern Isles, wishing to conquer them for their own. There are many lords of the islands, and some call themselves kings, but they recognise one man as their leader, and he has no sons. Only daughters."

  Now Reidar understood. "You want to be king of the Southern Isles, and take one of the daughters for your queen." A king in his own right. "But the Southern Isles still belong to Viken."

  "Not for long, if the other kings have their way. I mean to take a small force and together with the men of the isles, claim them for my own. I will still bend the knee to you, of course, but without someone to lead them, the isles will fall." Rudolf clenched his hands into fists. "I will not let that happen."

  "What is there about these isles that inspires such passion?" Reidar asked.

  Rudolf coughed. "My passion is not for the isles, but for the lady. The isles are her birthright."

  Winning lands a world away for the love of a woman. Well. Reidar had never expected this.

  "When my wife gives birth to a son, you are free to return," Reidar said. "I'm sure you will find men here willing to flock to your cause, if only for the adventure of a trip to the Southern Isles. But do not take too many, for I will not lose the war here so you can have your woman!"

  Rudolf bowed low. "As Your Majesty commands."

  "Is she fair, this lady?" Reidar asked, unable to resist.

  "Her skin is fair, but her hair reminds me of a bonfire blaze. Portia is like no lady I have ever met." It was Rudolf's turn to sigh, as his eyes turned to the south-west.

  Reidar laughed. "What a pair we are, mooning after girls who are not yet our wives. But, God willing, they will be. What will we do while we wait for the time to be right?"

  Rudolf shrugged. "What men always do, I suppose. Make war. Make merry. Make our mothers despair of us ever growing up."

  Reidar clapped his cousin on the back. "Sounds like a fine plan. I have another. We have not celebrated your return yet, and Mother is always pestering me to hold another feast. She wants only to parade more maidens before me, of course, but what of it? It is many months since I have gone hunting, and the boars are fat this time of year. Let's put together a hunting party on the morrow, and on our return, there shall be a welcome feast in your honour."

  "I have not tasted Viken boar since I left your shores, and the pigs in the Southern Isles cannot compare. Let us forget women and the worries of your kingdom for a few days, and enjoy the hunt!" Rudolf grinned. "Thank you, cousin. It is good to be back."

  It was good to have him back, Reidar thought. Now all he needed was Sativa, and he could be happy.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Sativa wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her mother would despair if she knew, but Sativa had no handkerchief here.

  "Why?" she whispered.

  Captain Zydrunas shrugged. "Like most women, she was too noisy for her own good. Inquisitive. Complaining. And tears...ugh." He shuddered.

  An arrow of remorse shot through Sativa's heart. She had disliked Nekane's constant tears and mourning, too, but she'd never wanted to kill her. She was a widow, and widows were allowed to weep.

  "You are a monster," Sativa said. It was a calm statement of fact.

  Why wouldn't he move away from the door? she raged inwardly.

  "All men are monsters in their own way," he said loftily. He nodded at Nekane, and there was considerable pride in his voice as he added, "She said I was like a dragon."

  "It was no compliment," Sativa shot back. "Dragons are mindless beasts, who don't know the difference between a sheep and a woman in wool. They burn and devour because they don't know any better. Men are more than that."

  At least, the men in her father's court had been. Those aboard the Wydra. And Reidar.

  "I would take a dragon over you any day," she added, more to bait him than anything else.

  It worked. He moved away from the door, but only to approach her. "But you will take me, girl. She could not stop me, and nor will you."

  He would kill her, and defile her dead body. Horror made h
er jaw drop, but some other instinct told her to draw her dagger. She did.

  Zydrunas set the lantern on the table, and drew his own knife. Easily thrice as long as hers, the steel blade seemed to drink the light instead of reflecting it. He thrust across the table, and Sativa barely managed to dodge the wicked point. Her arm seemed to have a life of its own, driving down to slice his hand.

  Zydrunas swore. "Little bitch. I was going to cut your throat, nice and easy, but you'll have no quick death from me now. You shall suffer."

  Faster than Sativa believed possible, he whipped his blade to the side, slashing it across her belly. Warm liquid gushed out, soaking her tunic, but the wound came with no pain. Sativa pressed her hands to her belly, and they came away red. She turned horrified eyes on the captain as she backed away.

  He made no move to follow her now. He knew as well as she did that she was as good as dead.

  Instead, he crossed to the bed. He lifted Nekane's corpse in his arms, and she flopped like some obscene rag doll as he carried her over to the bench Sativa recognised as a privy. He kicked open the lid and forced the body in, feet first. He managed to get her halfway in, before she stuck, her torso sticking out of the privy like a giant glove puppet.

  "She can watch you die, then," he said, forcing the corpse's eyes open. Gore dribbled down Nekane's bloated face – there was nothing recognisable about her eyes any more. The widow was with her husband, now.

  Doubled over in the corner, one arm pressed to her belly, Sativa still pointed the knife at him, but for how long, she wasn't sure. "You deserve to die," she hissed.

  He laughed. "Not today. Today, I get a new bride in my bed." He crossed to the door and yanked it open. "I will return when you are finished fighting, but still warm." And out he went, closing the door behind him. He drove the bolt home, a final nail in Sativa's coffin.

  She collapsed on the floor, spent. What was there left to fight for, now? Not even she could fight death.